Captain's Code
by LaylaBinx
Summary: When a dangerous man from Jim's past suddenly resurfaces, he's faced with a tough decision: resign as captain of the Enterprise or risk the lives of his crew. The choice was obvious. LOTS and LOTS of Hurt Jim!
1. Trust Issues

**Hello all!!Okay, so I'm basing this strictly off the movie (I've never seen the original series) so a lot of this is coming completely from my imagination. This takes place a few days after their very first mission together and I really wanted to write a story based on the crew's acceptance of Jim as their captain. But considering he's my favorite character, and especially if you've ever read any of my other stories, that means I'm going to beat the absolute crap out of him. This does deal with child abuse so do not read if that offends you!! I'm a sadist, I know, but a healthy dose of hurt/comfort fluff always makes my day lol. So just prepare yourself because alot of bad things are about to happen O.o If there's anything I need to change, please feel free to (politely) let me know and I'll be happy to fix any errors :D But no flames please, that's just mean..:(**

**I own nothing!!...McCoy is hot though O.o...**

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Jim closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the cold steel walls that lined the hallway. He could feel rivets and bolts digging into his shoulders but he ignored it and instead blinked slowly up to the ceiling. Below his feet, the engines trembled slightly as the ship limped its way through warp, back to Starfleet to lick its wounds. To say that their first mission hadn't gone exactly as planned was a bit of an understatement; hell, it was a flat out neon sign.

It should have been simple: transport the Earth's EGTO (Emissary of Galactic Trade and Organization) and to a conference and make sure everything ran smoothly for the three days it would take for them to hash out a bill or law or whatever it was they were doing. The conference was kind of a big deal; not a life or death kind of meeting but it was designed to review and reform the regulations on intergalactic trade and travel on this side of solar system. Security was tight and everything should have gone down without a hitch; however, an attack from the inside is something hardly anyone ever expects. One minute, the delegates were gathering to begin their meeting and the next, lights are out, windows are shattered and at least ten heavily armed men had the entire room in lockdown. The computer system had been tripped and rewired, locking the doors from the inside and preventing any outside help from entering the room with a new code sequence for the doors. The attack was well-organized, planned methodically, and it went off without a hitch.

Jim had been inside at the time, along with Spock and Sulu (because he knew hand-to-hand combat) and, between the three of them, taking down the gunmen wasn't much of an obstacle. But not before Earth's Emissary had been taken hostage and shot in the leg. That had been an error of judgment on their part, thinking the room was clear when one of the men had managed to press himself into a corner long enough to make his move. He'd grabbed the closest person to him, which just so happened to be the Emissary, and held a gun to his head, threatening to shoot at the slightest movement. Judging by the way the man moved and spoke, he was planning to shoot the emissary all along. Jim had a clear shot, at least one that could incapacitate the man long enough to subdue him and get Emissary safely back aboard the ship. However, his aim was just slightly off and the blast slammed harmlessly into the wall next to him. This was just enough to startle the man into dropping his gun and firing toward the floor. The Emissary's leg just happened to get in the way of the original target. By that time, the guards who had been standing outside managed to get past the rewired computer system and arrest the men responsible. The Emissary had been carried back aboard the ship and, in their rush to take off, the ship had clipped the sharp edge of the building and damaged one of the engines. Just perfect.

Jim let out a long sigh and closed his eyes again, squeezing the bridge of his nose wearily. So their first actual mission had been a complete failure…great. He had gotten cocky, overly confident in his abilities, and had ignored Spock's warnings that there could be another gunman lingering in the room even after the others had been disarmed. It was stupid, a reckless mistake…

The captain sighed again and pressed his back a little harder against the wall. Scotty was busy in the engine room, trying to keep everything together long enough for them to get back to Starfleet and make the necessary repairs. McCoy was elbow deep in the Emissary's surgery right now and Spock had been left in charge of the Bridge while Jim was gone.

He couldn't handle it right now; the looks on their faces, the unsure glances, the hesitant questionable replies. His crew didn't trust him, that much was obvious. He'd known that from the beginning, given his reputation and history with Starfleet, especially the trial right before everyone had responded to the distress call from Vulcan. And why should they? After all, Jim Kirk was nothing but a cocky, loud-mouthed kid, a playboy, a slacker. Trust wasn't something he was going to be gaining anytime soon.

Still, it was frustrating. He wanted so badly to prove to everyone that he could do this, that he could make something of himself and not just be the juvenile delinquent he'd been pegged for all his life. But when the opportunity finally came and he was given the position he never thought he'd achieve, he began to question it. The confidence he'd had while facing Nero was gone and what was left were uncertainties and hesitation. What if he failed? What if he wasn't able to live up to the expectations everyone associated with his father? What if he failed his crew? Jim shook his head at that, vowing he would never let that happen. The instant he'd taken that captain's chair he's made a solemn vow to himself that even at the cost of his own life, he would protect his ship and crew. They were his responsibility and he would be damned if that were to ever change.

The door slid open next to him and Jim was pulled from his reverie as McCoy appeared in the hallway at his side. The older man was covered in blood from wrist to elbow and fair amount had managed to stain the front of his surgical scrubs but he looked pleased with himself. "Emissary McNeil is going to be fine. The blast torn through a few ligaments so he may be on crutches for a while but he should make a full recovery.

Jim let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and allowed himself a weak smile. "Good…Glad to hear it…" His voice was tired, strained as if were struggling under the weight of the world at the moment.

The older man frowned and peeled the bloody gloves from his hands, tucking them in an open pocket. "What happened down there, Jim? It was supposed to be a simple meeting."

Jim let out a hollow laugh at the word 'simple' and shook his head. "Ah Bones, you know nothing is ever simple when I'm around…" He teased, the humor falling flat and lifeless.

"Don't I know it." The doctor mumbled, glancing back into the room to see one of the nurses wheeling Emissary McNeil into one corner of the sickbay.

"It was my fault…"

The words caught him off guard and Bones looked up. "What?"

"It was my fault that he got shot." Jim repeated, looking back to the room as well. "I thought everything was clear but it wasn't. That guy was going to kill him, Bones…" The words sounded desperate, pleading to be understood. "I thought I had a good shot but I missed and the guy ended up shooting McNeil anyway." Jim let out a long breath and scrubbed at his face with his hands, grumbling behind his fingers.

Bones frowned again and shook his head. "Well, if it's any consolation, I think you made the right choice." He picked at the hem of his sleeve, his fingers becoming tacky with the slowly drying blood. He looked back to Jim and his gaze softened a little. Jim could be read like an open book and now the page had been turned to guilt. He looked years older than he was as if stress of the mission had suddenly landed on his all at once. The kid had a horrible hero complex and was desperate to prove everyone wrong but sometimes it simply didn't work out the way he planned it to. "Jim, listen," Bones started again, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You made a tough decision but it was the right one. Especially if that man was planning to shoot McNeil all along. I know it bothers you kid but trust me, this could have been worse. Much worse."

Jim was silent for a few seconds before nodding slowly. "You know the review board is going to have a field day with this, right?" He muttered after a minute, not taking his eyes off the floor.

It was Bones' turn to sigh and he patted the younger man on the shoulder encouragingly. "Don't worry, I'm sure they'll see it the same way." He hoped his voice held stronger conviction than he felt. The review board was still pretty wary of Jim after the Kobyashi Maru Test. Still, in a matter of actual life or death, perhaps they would see it from his point of view. "You just focus on getting us back to Starfleet." Bones continued, pushing Jim in the direction of the Bridge.

The younger man simply nodded and went on his way, leaving the doctor to let out a long, exasperated sigh in his wake.

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**Yay!! So was it okay? Horrible? Should I keep my day job?? Reviews are my crack so let me know!! :D**


	2. Masks

**Hi guys!! Wow, I was so excited by the reaction to this story!! Thank you all soo much!! :D I orginally wanted to make this chapter much longer but then it felt too long so I just cut it in half and will post the completed second part soon. Mostly this chapter was just to get into the heads of the crew (somewhat). Hope it turned out alright!! :D**

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By the time the ship arrived back at Starfleet, Jim was back to usual cocky self. He teased and joked with the crew as they docked, flirted with a few of the female members, and all together had the look of a man who didn't have a care in the world. But, while most of the rest of the crew seemed fooled by the carefree demeanor, Bones could spot a front when he saw one. He'd known Jim long enough to recognize his many masks and this was just one other one he usually wore when he didn't want the world to see past the smile. Deep down, he knew the younger man was still fretting about the mission and the upcoming review board. However, if anyone was a master of playing it cool, it was Jim Kirk. Anyone else would have been worrying themselves sick with what was about to happen but not Jim. He wore a cool, easy smile and his body language appeared perfectly at ease; the world was just one more thing to prove wrong. With a soft sigh, Bones turned and made his way back to the sickbay, readying Emissary McNeil for transport off the ship.

The damage to the ship had been a little more severe than originally thought and it was going to take a few days to fix everything that had been rattled around in the collision. The engine definitely needed work and at least two of the computer systems were down, all together at least two full days of repairs were in order before their next scheduled mission; which happened to be three days away.

Uhura sat at her station, busily trying to break through the sequences of protective code her system had uploaded during the collision. It wasn't difficult, regular password and verification kind of pathways, but there were a lot of them and it wasn't going to go much faster than the pace she was at right now.

"How's it going, lieutenant?" A casual voice asked from somewhere off to her left.

Uhura suppressed a sigh and glanced over her shoulder at the captain. "Fine." She replied shortly, irritated from having her concentration broken at such a critical time. "The computer protects itself by shutting off and restarting. The only problem is the login sequence; it usually takes a while to get past all the barriers. I should have everything up and running within the hour…captain." The last word was tacked on for good measure, almost like an extremely polite equivalent of "fuck off sir". She knew full well that adding "captain" wasn't necessary; Jim usually insisted on people calling him Jim instead of Captain but it was still something he liked to use occasionally to get under everyone's skin.

It was no secret that Uhura held a strong dislike for Jim. She didn't hate him by any means, but he was far too bold and reckless, a risky choice for the captain of one of the newest and best ships in Starfleet. Jim was the kind of person to leap before he looked, even if the place he was leaping into was filled with broken glass, used syringes, and rattlesnakes. He did whatever he felt like doing at the time and be damned with the consequences. Sometimes that impulsiveness was alright, as in the case of their first encounter with Nero, but most of the time, it was just dangerous. Anyone who was willing to risk their ship and crew was a hazard and Jim was just about wrapped from head to toe in bright yellow caution tape. So no, Uhura didn't hate him, but she certainly didn't respect him; not yet at least.

Jim nodded behind her and turned to face another portion of the Bridge. "Mr. Sulu, Mr. Chekov. Any damage to the navigation systems?"

Sulu shook his head slowly, scrolling through a few of the computer's basic functions. "Not here, sir." He answered, half-turning in his chair to look at Jim.

Chekov continued scrolling through his system, his eyes darting back and forth between the read-outs and the information still on the screen. "Everything is fine here as well, Captain."

Jim smiled and nodded. "Good, great job guys." He knew better than to ask Scottie how everything was going in the engine room. The steady clank and bang of machinery beneath them was enough indication of the state of the crew below. Of all the crew, Scottie seemed to be the only one who had accepted Jim completely as captain. Partially because he was the one who had "rescued" him from that frozen wasteland, Delta Vega, and partially because he didn't know any better. He didn't know that Spock had been the captain before and that the rivalry between them extended beyond the ship. It wasn't until Jim had forced Spock out of his position as captain did Scottie have any real knowledge of the dynamics of the ship. Still, he seemed perfectly content to follow Jim's orders and run the ship as he saw fit. That meant he was neck deep in engine repairs right now and probably on the verge of tossing the extra crew members out into the hallway and locking the door. If there was one thing Jim had learned about Scottie, it was that he liked to do things his own way and tended to become slightly miffed if anyone tried to help or fix anything he'd already done. Asking how things were going right now would be like walking into an angry bear's cave.

The whirl of the engines died down and the ship became quiet, the various chirps and chatter of the computers filling the room. There was a gentle hum as the last of the engines were quieted and Jim focused out of the wide front window, waiting patiently. A blur of movement appeared to his right and he looked see Spock standing next to him, his expression calm and impassive. "Captain," He began evenly, his voice low enough to be considered a whisper but not quite as muted. "You have a meeting with the Review Board in one hour."

Jim nodded and stood smoothly. "Thank you, Mr. Spock." He smiled easily, ignoring the heaviness that had settled in his stomach. The very last thing he wanted to do was be evaluated on his performance right now but it was unavoidable. Time to face to music. "Let's not keep them waiting."

**OOOOO**

"You know, you didn't have to come with me to this." Jim muttered again once they'd arrived back at the academy.

"As your First Officer, it would appear only natural that I should accompany you to a Review Board." Spock replied coolly, walking in stride with his captain, his hands clasped comfortably behind his back. They had left the crew to continue repairs while they were gone, leaving the Bridge in Sulu's command. Hopefully, if everything went well, the ship could be repaired in half the time that had been originally estimated.

Jim snorted softly, a soft laugh in the back of his throat. "Liar. You just wanted to see me get ripped to shreds by the Board." He mumbled as the passed through the exit of the transport dock and into a much quieter hall leading to the main body of the academy.

"While I highly doubt mutilation would be part of the itinerary for your first Review, I am curious to see how you will react to their criticism." Spock replied as they continued to walk. His face remained calm but his voice held the teasing edge of a smile as he spoke. He had only seen his captain's performance evaluated twice: once with the Kobyashi Maru Exam (which had been cut short due to the Vulcan distress call) and the second time was when he relieved Admiral Pike of his duty. Both times had been special circumstances but the reaction was still the same: Jim would stand still as a plank, his blue eyes locked forward as if he weren't really seeing or hearing anything, but the urge to put in his own word was very apparent. It was obvious that Jim didn't take order and authority well so Spock was interested to see just how well the younger man would handle such a serious evaluation.

"Hn…Sadist." Jim muttered as they rounded another corner and appeared in front of a large presentation room much like the auditorium Jim had been in during his trial. It was smaller, about the size of a regular classroom, but the seating was tiered and open like the other room. The air smelled cold and sterile. A middle aged man with graying hair greeted them at the door and asked for their names. Once he'd logged them into the small, personal computer that curled around the length of his forearm, he opened one of the doors and nodded for Jim to go inside.

Spock was left to stand outside, resting his back against the opposite wall. He stood silently, watching the guard with a cool, impassive gaze that seemed to unnerve the man entirely. The meeting began behind the doors, the voices coming through clear as a bell thanks to his sharp hearing and Spock had to force himself to tune out the words, knowing it wouldn't be appropriate for him to listen to such a private conversation. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax against the wall, and waited for the meeting to end.

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**Oooh, the Board just started...what will they decide?? Stay tuned to find out!! -- Wow...that sounded lame O.o...I'm gonna go.... (wanders off aimlessly)**


	3. Decisions and Reunions

**Hi guys!! Hopefully this chapter is a little more interesting than the last one :D Just gotta build up the tension, right?? Hehe, okay so the bad guy is Jim's step father. Yes, I know its been done hundreds of times already but I can't help myself; I like to stick with the classics :p Hope you all like it!!**

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Jim walked to the front of the room slowly, the feeling of several eyes on him making his movements measured and cautious. The room was much cooler than the outer hallway and sunlight streamed in through the large paneled windows that wrapped around the walls. A row of desks sat at the front of the room, each one occupied by one member of the Review Board, three women, two men. Unlike his trial, this room was empty even though he had to walk through a hallway made of stadium seating on either side. As Jim got a little closer to the front of the room, he felt his stomach do a lazy flip as his eyes came to rest on a haggard, sixth member of the Review Board. Next to the last desk, Emissary McNeil was slouched in a wheelchair, looking like he was ready to completely pass out at any moment. He was pale, his hair disheveled and hastily combed into place, but his dark eyes watched Jim sharply as he came into the room.

_Great…The guy who gets shot under my watch gets to make a guest appearance at the Review._ _Absolutely wonderful…_Jim thought miserably, stepping a little closer to the front desk and stopping. McNeil's eyes raked him up and down as if trying to decide what to make of the younger man. Before getting aboard the ship, he'd heard rumors of Starfleet's newest and youngest captain but he'd never met him in person. Maybe the rumors were correct.

A middle aged woman with graying brown hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck sat at the middle desk. She looked like a librarian thrown into a courtroom. "Ah, Mr. Kirk." She said absently, looking up and shuffling through a few papers on her desk, pulling out his file. The dossier was filled to the brim with papers that outlined everything from Jim's past and present performance to how many times he'd been plucked from a bar fight while at the academy.

Jim winced inwardly. God…not the file…It was a well known fact that the academy kept everything in the computer system but having a hard copy was essential to a Review Board. Possibly used for necessary purposes or possibly for dramatic effect; Jim wasn't sure but it made him feel worse.

The woman slipped on a pair of glasses and began reading through the most recent file, the one that had been delivered immediately after the ship had docked. "Mr. Kirk, it says here that yesterday evening, at roughly 1800 hours, the conference that Emissary McNeil was attending was interrupted by several men carrying weapons. Before the threat could be resolved completely, McNeil was injured by one of the men after you took a shot at him." She placed the file back on the table and fixed her gaze on the young man before her. "Would you care to elaborate on anything?" She asked, her voice taking on a tense patience of a mother scolding a child.

Jim took a breath and cleared his throat, stepping forward just slightly. "Yes Ma'am…" He glanced between her and the other members of the Board, his eyes falling on McNeil last. "Myself and few members of my crew were in the room with Emissary McNeil when the conflict began. McNeil was taken hostage and the man was threatening to shoot him if we tried to assist him in any way. I thought I had a clear shot so I took it." He cleared his throat again and shifted his weight between his feet. "The man was startled and ended up shooting the Emissary in the leg before he was detained." Even though it had been an honest mistake, it still sounded bad out in the open.

The woman nodded and looked through the file once more. "And why did you insist on taking the shot if you knew the Emissary could be injured in the process?"

Jim looked at the floor for a second. "Ma'am, the man with the gun was going to shoot McNeil regardless of what we did; I was sure of it. I knew that if we gave him the opportunity he would have killed the Emissary with no questions asked." He glanced to McNeil who was still regarding Jim with a cautious stare. "Instead of risking a fatal shot, I attempted to lessen the damage."

There was a brief silence in the room before the woman turned her attention to McNeil. "Emissary McNeil, do you have anything you wish to add?"

The Emissary sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat, leveling his gaze on Jim. "Young man, what you did at the conference was reckless and could have made the situation much worse than it already was."

Jim grit his teeth, one fist clenching at his side. _That bastard! I saved his life and he's telling me I could have made it worse?!_

McNeil continued to regard him but his gaze softened slightly. "However, given the situation at hand, you acted bravely and ultimately saved my life." He offered Jim a weak smile and turned to the Review Board. "This young Captain is bold, brash, and entirely too reckless for his own good, but he was a hero at that conference and I owe him my life."

Jim blinked in stunned silence. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or insulted.

The woman in the middle nodded and looked back at Jim's file. "Mr. Kirk. While your actions were risky and dangerous, I believe you did make the right decision under the circumstances and I must commend you on your performance." She signed something on the bottom of the print out and looked at the other members of the Board. "Does anyone have any objections?" Another silence followed her question and the woman smiled; Jim liked it much better when she was smiling. "Carry on, Captain." She said, tucking the papers back inside and closing the file.

Jim nodded and turned to the Emissary. "Mr. McNeil-" He started but the older man waved his hand to prevent him from continuing.

"I owe you my life Mr. Kirk." He said, smiling softly as he spoke. "But just remember that sometimes you won't have control of the situation. Sometimes you may not have your crew members there to help you. Are you prepared for a moment like that?"

Jim was silent for a moment as he contemplated the question. He personally didn't believe in no-win situations like most of the other cadets did but that didn't mean he would never encounter one. With a slow nod, he returned his gaze to McNeil. "Yes sir."

McNeil nodded in return. "Good." He winced a little as he shifted his position, his leg wrapped from the hip down. "Try to stay out of trouble." He said as one of the members of the Board approached him and carefully wheeled him toward the door.

Jim waited until the Emissary had disappeared through the back door before nodding respectfully to the remaining members of the Review Board and walking back toward the door he'd entered from.

**OOOOO**

"I trust the Review went well?" Spock asked once Jim stepped back into the hallway.

The younger man flashed him a bright smile and nodded to the man standing by the door. "Textbook." He answered, walking back through the hallway toward the doors.

The first officer walked in stride next to his captain, not speaking for several minutes. He'd heard everything from the hallway, even though he tried to block out the words, so he knew exactly what had taken place in the meeting.

"McNeil said I was too reckless for my own good." Jim said after a few minutes of silent walking. He didn't appeared troubled by the description but he was definitely wrestling with something internally.

"Perhaps he wasn't too far from the truth." Spock offered at his side, rounding a corner and easily missing as late cadet who was rushing through the hallway.

"Hey, you're supposed to be on my side." Jim grumbled, pretending to pout. They stepped into a wide commons area, the afternoon sun shining high and bright above them. Cadets and civilians alike were spread out across the lawn, benches and tables set up beneath a few of the larger trees. There was break between classes right now so many of the students were taking advantage of the mild weather and sitting outside in the open to study.

"I am not picking 'sides' I am merely stating that Emissary McNeil may have had a point in his initial assumption."

Jim sighed heavily and looked out across the lawn. "God…you're as bad as Bones…"

"I do not think Dr. McCoy is necessarily bad. A little irritable at times, yes, but not bad."

This got a laugh out of Jim. He shook his head, still chuckling to himself. "Not bad as in-" He stopped himself and shook his head. He really didn't feel like going into the differences in definitions right now. "Let's get back the ship so we can get the repairs underway. We have another mission in three days."

The rounded another corner, passing through a covered atrium where a number of tables had been set up in the shade. Most were filled, a few emptying out as the break got a little closer to ending. The atrium was open to civilians as well, just like the commons, so a varied mix of socializing was going on in at many of the tables.

Jim and Spock passed through the area quietly, side-stepping a few cadets that passed by them. "You know, I bet Scotty is ready to throttle the next person who offers to help him in the engine room." Jim smirked as they walked, picturing their chief engineer in a feral mood due to the overly helpful crew.

"I don't see why he would turn away help that is offered to him. The repairs could be completed in half the time if he were to allow assistance."

"Yeah, but you don't know how Scotty gets with the ship. He's very particular about the way things-"

"Well, well, well…look what blew in with the space trash." A deep, gravely voice drawled as Jim passed.

The younger man stopped so suddenly it took Spock a minute to realize he was walking alone. When he noticed the absence of his captain, he turned and saw Jim standing in front of a table occupied by one man, his eyes focused on a crumpled newspaper in front of him.

The man looked up, a slow smile stretching across his mouth. "Seems you've made quite a name for yourself." He said, taking a drag on the cigarette hanging from his mouth before stubbing it out in an empty ashtray. He had dark hair and even darker eyes; cold and calculating. His smile was predatorily and he looked around the room carefully as he spoke, sizing up the people around him. Everything about the man looked like a wolf that had skipped one too many meals: dangerous and ruthless.

Jim returned the smile, maintaining a calm outward expression, but his back was rigid and the muscles in one side of his jaw were clenched. "Nice to see you too, Frank." He said, glancing around the room as if he expected to see someone else. When his searched proved useless, he returned his gaze to the older man and smiled again. "What brings you here?"

The man shrugged half-heartedly and stood, taking the paper with him. He had a least a foot on Jim and arms rippled with muscle as he shook the newspaper just enough that it folded out. "Just catching up on the news." He replied quietly, a dangerous smirk forming at the corner of his mouth. "Read about the McNeil incident…" The man shook his head slowly and chuckled. "I knew it wouldn't take you long to fuck up again."

Having been left out of the conversation for about as long as he could stand it, Spock stepped forward to the aid of his captain. "Excuse me, but it would behoove you to show a little more respect in the presence of a Starfleet Captain."

The man, Frank, looked him up and down carefully, his dark eyes narrowing sharply. "Who the hell is this guy? Your bodyguard?"

"I am not his-"

"This is Spock, my First Officer." Jim cut in before Spock could continue, glancing between the two men quickly as if he were trying to prevent an inevitable confrontation.

Frank's eyes narrowed again and he plucked another cigarette from a pack in his pocket. He lit it absently and took a slow drag on it before continuing. "Vulcan, huh? Heard your planet exploded not too long ago. That's gotta suck."

Spock felt a twinge of rage at the man's callousness but he suppressed it quickly before the emotion could make itself known. "Pardon me, but I don't believe we've been properly introduced." He said in a sharp, clipped tone, his voice still holding onto the cautious detachment he'd had when Nero first introduced himself.

Jim took a breath beside him, his easy-going demeanor faltering just slightly. "Spock this is Frank, my-"

"Step-father." Frank interjected.

"Ex-Step-Father." The younger man corrected quickly, his blue eyes darkening ever so slightly as he spoke.

Frank sneered and then grinned another cold smile. "Yeah, ex." The word sounded like a verbal dagger and he spit it out as if it were. He leveled his gaze with Jim once more and took another drag on his cigarette. "We need to talk, Jim." He said, turning slightly to face the First Officer. "Alone."

"Anything you wish to discuss with the Captain can be said in my presence." Spock responded coolly, taking a small step forward to place himself between Jim and the older man. True, he may not be entirely certain of the younger man's new role in Starfleet and may even be doubtful of it, but he was not about to let someone insult his Captain while he was standing there.

Frank looked like he wanted to say something else but Jim beat him to it. "It's alright Spock," He said calmly, placing a hand on his First Officer's shoulder. "Frank was just leaving." His gaze leveled with the older man. "Weren't you?"

There was a tense silence, a stand-off to see who would break first. Finally, Frank chuckled darkly in the back of his throat and flicked his cigarette to the ground. "Yeah, I guess I was." He grabbed the newspaper and shoved it into Jim's chest, causing him to stumble back a step. "Here, think of it as a souvenir." He smirked at Spock's glare and tossed a half-hearted wave over his shoulder as he walked away. "See you around, Jim." He called before he disappeared completely behind an atrium wall.

For a long moment, neither man moved. The population in the atrium was slowly dissipating and several of the occupants had to walk around them in order to get by. Finally, Jim let out a long breath and dropped the paper back onto the table, squeezing the bridge of his nose tightly.

"Captain-"

"I'm sorry you had to see that." Jim said, smiling once more in his easy, carefree way. His expression was calm but the underlying tension was obvious.

"Captain, that man…" Spock found himself unable to complete whatever sentence he was about to say. It was odd, usually he was able to control himself around most humans, but that man had tugged and pulled at every emotional string the Vulcan had learned to keep dormant. He knew there was much more to Jim's relationship with the man, something he didn't want to talk about, and that just made it worse. It made him anxious, on edge, and he didn't enjoy that feeling at all. He had a sudden protective urge with the younger man, also odd considering he hardly ever felt that way about anyone other than Nyota. With a deep sigh, he turned his attention back to Jim. "Captain," He began once more, carefully suppressing all of the emotional turmoil that was trying to resurface. "Another meeting with that man is highly discouraged."

Jim was silent for another minute, his eyes focused on the commons area behind them. There were millions of thoughts running through his mind, memories and flashbacks he's fought hard to forget. And just like that, the walls had come crumbling down all over again. He smiled back at the Vulcan, keeping his expression forcefully neutral; just another mask in his wardrobe. "Don't worry, I'm not too keen on the idea of meeting up with him again anytime soon." He rolled his shoulder back and stood a little straighter, taking a deep breath. "Hey Spock, think you can do me a favor?"

The First Officer blinked in confusion but nodded slightly. "Anything, Captain."

"Go back to the Enterprise and tell the crew to take the rest of the afternoon off. That last mission was hard on everyone and I'm sure they need rest." He kept smiling but his voice sounded resigned, much older than it had a second before.

Spock hesitated for a split second. "Are you sure, Captain?"

Jim smiled at him and nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. And would you stop calling me Captain? Call me Jim, we're friends right?"

Another hesitation. "Yes…Jim." It felt odd using such informalities with the younger man but if that's what made him happy then he couldn't argue. "I will alert the crew."

"Good." Jim seemed to visibly relax at the news.

"May I inquire as to your intentions?"

Jim smirked and clapped a hand on Spock's shoulder. "I have a few more stops to make before I'm done for the day." The edge still clung to his voice but it wasn't nearly as noticeable. He smiled again and took a step back. "Tell the crew to be back on the ship first thing tomorrow morning so we can finish the repairs." And with that, Jim turned and walked out into the commons, heading back toward the main offices of the academy and leaving behind his stunned First Officer.

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**Yay villain introduction!! Hehe, okay from this point on things are going to get bad and once they start down that steep slope...well, there's very little I can do to stop it O.o Hope you liked it!!**


	4. Memories and Patchworks

**Hey guys!! I'm so sorry this build up is taking so long and I fully intended to start my Jim whumpage in this chapter but I felt the mental anxiety needed to be stressed just a bit more. I wanted to make it as realistic as possible so I hope no one minds if this chapter doesn't have much drama or angst just yet O.o Mental angst galore though!! Also, I wanted him to have a bit more interaction with some of the crew members. Alot more of that to come as well!! Hope you like it!! :D**

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The academy halls felt constricting, overbearing and closing in all around him at every turn. Every hallway offered a hiding place, every cadet appeared to be an enemy, the air felt heavy and hard to breathe. Jim Kirk was on edge, his back tense as he walked. He kept his head held high, darkened eyes trained forward as he carefully navigated his way through the twisting and turning corridors of the academy. He was here…He'd found him…After ten years, the man he'd struggled everyday to rid from his nightmares was back in the flesh…Jim felt physically sick just thinking about it, a heavy weight forming in the pit of his stomach as he rounded another corner and walked straight into Sulu.

"Whoa, sorry about that Captain." The lieutenant laughed, stepping back as Jim stumbled into the wall.

"Christ Sulu…" Jim breathed, closing his eyes and squeezing the bridge of his nose tightly. "I'm going to put a bell around your neck, I swear…" The younger man looked visibly shaken and he took several deep breaths in order to calm himself.

Sulu's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked Jim up and down carefully. "I'm sorry…" He began hesitantly, concern lingering on the edge of his voice as he spoke. "Are you alright?"

Jim seemed confused for a second, his eyebrows knitting together a little. Then, recovering almost as quickly, he smiled and nodded. "Yeah, sorry. You just surprised me is all. I had a million things going on in my mind at one time; Captain's responsibilities, you know?" He smirked and patted the other man on the shoulder. "Nothing to worry about." Without waiting for Sulu to question him more, he turned down a different hallway and disappeared behind a set of revolving doors.

After a quick scan of the room, making sure that no other members of his crew were there to witness his miniature anxiety attack, Jim leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. "God…get it together, Kirk…" He muttered to himself, forcing himself to breathe evenly and push away the nagging coldness that had seeped into his veins. It figured Frank would show up now, after everything had been going well for once. Frank had been quite possibly the worst thing that happened to his family since his father died, an event Jim didn't even remember. Frank was ruthless, dangerous, and worst of all he was here at the academy. He knew Jim was here. Oh, this was soo bad…

Pushing himself off the wall once more, Jim made his way back to his room. He needed somewhere safe, somewhere familiar. The hallway stretched on before him but this one didn't feel quite as foreboding as the others; this one felt like home. He swiped his ID card through the slot next to the door and waited for the lock to slide open. After about two seconds too long, the lock opened with a low hum of turning gears and wires. Jim pushed the door open and stepped into the small room he and Bones shared. The room was spotless on Bones' side, all of the clothes and books put away in a neat and orderly fashion. Jim's side on the other hand was a wreck. Clean and dirty clothes mixed together on the floor and the desk on his side of the room was cluttered with papers and logs from past and current missions. The closet door was partially open, various articles of clothing sticking out in odd angles from being hung up in a hurry. The bathroom door was closed and the sound of a shower running could be heard from behind the door,

Jim let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and sank onto his unmade bed, running a hand through his hair absently. His sleeve slipped just enough to show off the tip of a jagged scar that traveled the length of his forearm, wrist to elbow. He stopped, pulling the edge of his sleeve back a little further so he could see the scar clearly. It was deep and old, ten years at least, and the scar tissue was thick and raised along the boney ridge of his arm. Jim ran his fingers up the length of the scar, unwanted memories returning with the trace. _Broken wood…muffled cries for help…blood gushing from various wounds at an alarming rate…_There were plenty of scars to chose from if given the option. Long and short, shallow and deep, straight and jagged; the patchwork scrawled all over his body, a physical map of all the times he hadn't managed to dodge quick enough. Jim closed his eyes again, fighting back the bile rising in his throat.

A few more minutes passed and the shower shut off, replaced by a heavy silence that filled the room. It was nearly to the point where Jim couldn't take it anymore when the whistling began. Despite his current concerns, Jim found himself smiling faintly, his breath leaving in a long tired, sigh. Bones whistled in the shower; no one knew but Jim and if anyone else were to ever figure that out…well, being best friends with a doctor could be hazardous to one's health given the right circumstances. The whistling continued for a few minutes, the sink turning on and off behind the door.

The older man emerged from the bathroom room a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt. It was odd to see anyone from the academy out of their typical uniform but civilian clothes were allowed in the rooms for down time. "Hey…" Bones said by way of greeting, ruffling a towel through his still damp hair. "When did you get here?"

"Uh…just now. I just sat down actually." Jim smiled brightly, rolling his shoulders back and forcing himself to sit a little straighter. He pulled his shirt sleeve down nonchalantly, pretending to have been adjusting his sleeves. The last thing he wanted to do was explain the scar. Lying usually worked when it was noticed and he had to talk about it but right now, given the situation, he would be perfectly fine forgetting the incident that had led to the injury. "Going somewhere?" He asked, smiling casually and relaxing his shoulders against the wall.

Bones, however, wasn't fooled. He leveled his gaze at Jim for a minute, debating on what to say first. Jim looked tired, the same way he did on the way back to Starfleet, but more than anything he looked uncomfortable. He kept unconsciously glancing to the door, one foot bouncing by the side of his bed; a nervous habit Jim had developed over the years. Something was wrong. "How did the Review Board go?"

"Uh…good. Great actually. McNeil was there…he's in a wheelchair." Jim cursed himself mentally. He was rambling uselessly now; an automatic red flag for Bones.

The older man's eyes narrowed a little more and he frowned. "You okay?"

"Yes."

"Liar."

Jim sighed and shrugged, knowing his attempt to throw off suspicion was going down in flames. "Just tired…long day, you know? I'm fine, really." He smiled again, praying to any God that happened to be listening that the lie would work and Bones would drop it. Truth be told, he was anything but fine. In fact, fine was the total opposite of how he felt. He felt caged and restless.

Bones clearly didn't believe him but he let it go with a shrug and tossed the used towel into a hamper on his side of the room. "Some of us were going out for drinks tonight." He started, answering Jim's previous question and turning to him. "Feel like coming?"

Jim hesitated for a second before he shook his head. There was up side and a down side to going to a bar right now. The up side: plenty of people; the down side: Frank was still somewhere on the academy grounds. In this case, bad outweighed good. The less people who found out about his ex-step-father, the better. "No, its okay. I have plans already tonight…" It was a lie but he didn't care.

"Oh yeah? Who is she?" Bones asked, smirking slightly as he spoke. He was trying to get a rise out of the younger man, hoping the usual banter about Jim's many one-night stands would loosen him up. However, Jim just smiled and shook his head slowly.

"No one, Bones. I just have something else I need to do…"

"Good God man, you could at least give the poor girl a name."

This did get a small laugh from Jim and Bones smiled in return. Jim may live to make his life a new kind of fresh hell everyday but he hated seeing the younger man upset. He walked over and patted Jim on the shoulder before digging out a pair of shoes from the tiny closet they shared. "Well, if you change your mind let me know." He offered, slipping on the shoes and then pulling on a worn leather jacket over the t-shirt he wore. Jim had never taken Bones to be someone who wore leather so the first time he ever saw the jacket he nearly burst out laughing. It fit him well though so Jim didn't have much to say after that.

The younger man nodded and smiled again. "Will do. Go have fun." For a horrifying second, Bones hesitated at the door as if he were going to round back at Jim and bombard him with one of his patented rant/questionnaires but he didn't, he just looked him up and down carefully. Damn doctor's instinct…

"Alright…" He sighed, still not completely satisfied with Jim's answer but letting it go for the moment. "Have a good night." And with that the door closed and Jim was left alone in the room.

A few minutes passed in silence before he was able to move. "This is crazy…I'm hiding in my room like a little kid…" Jim muttered to himself, pacing the room in long strides. He wanted out, wanted to forget the encounter had ever happened, but that didn't appear to be an option anytime soon. He walked to the door, back to the closet, back to the door, looked out the window, back to the door. Jim let out a frustrated sigh and scrubbed at his face with his hands. "Ugh…Goddamn you, Frank…"

Just then, there was soft chirp from the computer hanging in the middle of the wall above their beds. It acted as an all in one alarm clock, telephone, email account, and announcement center for the academy. Every room had one but the individual personal accounts were not given out to the public. Usually, the only messages ever received through the computer system were from the campus's main browser, an easily recognizable feed. However, at the bottom of the screen in green letters, the word '1 new message' gleamed bright and clear, the words 'unknown account' flashing next to it. Quirking an eyebrow, Jim walked over to the monitor and carefully touched the screen, opening the message.

The message was simple and straightforward and Jim felt his stomach drop again. 'We need to talk, Jim. Maverick's; 7:30.' Even the written words held a certain coldness that projected clearly through the virtual inbox. _Well, looks like I have plans tonight after all…_

**Yay, a meeting Jim really shouldn't go to!! But he will because he's a badass and becuase I promised you all some good old fashioned Jim beat down. I'm such a sick person...O.o Hope you liked it!!**

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	5. Ultimatum

**Hello all!! As promised, this is the start of the hurt Jim portion of the story :D I really tried to come up with a better reason for Frank to be so incredibly hateful toward Jim (other than prison) and simply couldn't think of a better idea. He's just one of those people who doesn't need a reason and would gladly tear down everything that someone had built up. To quote Alfred from The Dark Knight, "Some people just want to watch the world burn." That's Frank, cut and dry. There's very little rhyme or reason for the way he acts; mayeb if I were a better author I could come up with one but for now that's what I'm stuck with O.o Also, I kinda based the pay scale on what an Air Force soldier makes so thats where the money system comes from. It would have been alot simpler for Frank to break into a bank via computer but he needs to torment Jim a little more in this chapter :p Hope you all like it!!**

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The evening air felt warm and humid, the smell of the river hanging heavily atmosphere. A few stars had just begun to peek through the dimming sky, twinkling brightly to the earth below. Just past the stratosphere, the large, looming shape of Starfleet's docking platform could be seen. The sheer size of it was still amazing, even after being in the academy for three years.

Jim stepped off the motorcycle he'd borrowed (There was a repair shop almost next door to the academy and the owner owed Jim a favor from time to time) and looked across the dusty parking lot. He still wasn't sure exactly what had dragged him here; maybe the desire to conquer the fear that Frank had managed to instill in him after all these years. It was a complex, no doubt, but one he wasn't able to get past. Mavericks had been around for at least seventy years and there had been very little effort to make it look any different. The walls were dull and splintering, the paint peeling away from the wood in long strips. It had probably been grey at one time but now it just looked like a thick layer of dirt and grime that had been caked onto the rickety walls. The windows were hazy from years of smoke and dust and the neon sign outside simply said 'ricks' due to the fact that no one seemed to notice or care that four of the letters had burnt out.

Despite the warm evening, Jim had dressed in a plain t-shirt with his black leather jacket tossed over his shoulders. He wore a pair of thread-bare blue jeans and steel-toed work boots that probably weren't too out of place in a bar like this. Maverick's was usually inhabited by steel workers and mechanics from the academy. There was a large scrap field about a mile away where many of the parts for the newer ships were made. Melt down enough abandoned cars and you can make a pretty decent panel for a ship. Maverick's was also well known for being the local hotspot for cheap liquor and gambling so the rest of the crowd could be accounted for by that alone. The shredded asphalt crunched beneath his boots as he stepped away from the motorcycle, making his way toward the bar.

The door swung open slowly and for an uncomfortable second, every eye in the room turned to Jim. He offered a small smile and walked into the bar, ignoring the table full of men by the door who snapped and snarled curses at him as he passed. The room smelled like smoke and alcohol; a classic bar scent. A few televisions hung from the walls, each playing something different, and the low whine of music over the overhead speakers could be heard past all the racket. Tables and chairs were tossed out all around the floor, most occupied but a few remaining empty save for a few lone drinkers. One man stuck out in particular and Jim swallowed, making his way over to him.

Frank had his back turned, a cigarette hanging from one hand and the beer bottle from the other. He was leaned back, watching some kind of sport on one of the TVs. Jim walked to the other side of the table, keeping his hands tucked firmly in his pockets. "Ah, Jim…" Frank smiled darkly, turning his attention to the younger man and taking a sip of his beer. "So glad you could make it."

"Cut the shit Frank." Jim snapped irritably, glancing around the room as he spoke. He'd half-expected to see Pike or someone else from Starfleet occupying one of the other tables. The last time he'd gotten into a confrontation this uncomfortable, Pike had been there to call off the cadets and save Jim's ass. However, tonight there were no familiar faces except for the one grinning back at him like the devil himself. "What the hell do you want?"

Frank regarded him carefully for a minute before smirking and stubbing out the cigarette in an ashtray on the table. "Well you like to get straight to the point, huh?" He smirked again and nodded to the chair across from him, moving his feet for Jim to sit down.

The younger man shifted uncomfortably for a second before finally sliding into the seat. He rolled his shoulders back, sitting up taller than he usually did, and looked the other man straight in the eye. "Answer me."

Frank sighed and rolled his eyes, muttering something about impatience and finishing his beer. He set the bottle on the table and motioned for a another one from the bar. A few seconds later, the bottle was removed and new one had been placed in front of him. "I need your help." He said finally, looking across the table at his ex-stepson.

Jim nearly laughed in his face. "You want my help?" He chuckled in disbelief and shook his head. Upon seeing the serious expression on the older man's face, Jim narrowed his eyes and leaned forward a little. "No."

"Come on, kid. Don't-"

"Frank, how the hell did you ever get here?!" Jim blurted, something that had been bothering him since their meeting earlier in the day. Frank had been in prison for the past ten years and should still be there so the fact that he was in California, in a bar, without guard swarming all over the place, was a little confusing.

Frank simply smirked and reached into his pocket, pulling out a thin metal band and laying on the table. "Simple, really." He said, pushing it across the table for Jim to see.

It was a prisoner identification band, usually attached to the person's ankle. The band was thin but durable; nearly impossible to get off unless you wanted to resort to cutting off a foot. On one side, a thin square of material shimmered brightly in the hazy bar. It was a microchip, slightly more durable than the band itself, and it contained the prisoner's information and identification number. It was open; the locking mechanism had been tripped.

Frank smirked as Jim examined the band. "Those things are pretty easy to rewire once you figure out the code sequences." He said casually, taking a sip of beer and setting the bottle back on the table.

Jim's eyes widened and he looked across the table. "You…" He stopped; it sounded impossible even by his standards. "You rewired a prison band and broke out?!" He whispered hoarsely.

Frank just nodded, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Sure did." He looked back at the band and grinned. "Don't worry. Prisoner 6001829 still exists, he's just not me." Upon seeing the blank expression, Frank rolled his eyes and explained. "I reprogrammed the chip to another prisoner's identification. Some petty thief whose up to be released tomorrow." Frank laughed darkly, the sound rumbling out of his throat like knives on glass. "He'll be surprised to learn he's still got five years to go."

Jim shook his head in disgust. "You son of a bitch…you pinned the rest of your sentence onto someone who didn't even deserve it!"

The older man shrugged innocently and crossed his arms over his chest. "And?"

Jim growled in the back of his throat and stood, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. "I'm leaving."

"Jim." Frank said casually.

"Fuck off." Jim snapped, rounding on the man and glaring at him hatefully. "Did you really think I was going to come here with an "everything is fine" attitude and listen to your bullshit with a smile on my face?!" The words were coming out laced in acid, bitter and sharp as years of torment resurfaced. "Why in the hell should I ever help you?!"

"Because you don't want me asking your mother."

The reply was simple but it drained every ounce of rage out of Jim. Instead, a cold weight fell to the pit of his stomach, making him physically sick. Clenching one fist, Jim narrowed his eyes again and glared at Frank. "You stay the hell away from her…" He growled in a feral voice he hadn't used in about ten years.

Frank simply smirked again and nodded back to the table. "As I was saying Jim, I need your help."

After a split second debate, Jim grudgingly sat back down, glaring daggers across the table.

Smiling back at him, Frank continued. "I need money. As you might imagine, prison doesn't pay very well and the judge stripped me of my title and assets once the verdict was made." His smile faltered a little and his eyes darkened murderously. "But you remember all of that, don't you Jim?"

"Yeah. And if I had my way about it you'd have gotten longer than fifteen years."

The blow came hard and fast and Jim's head jerked to the side suddenly as a fist connected with his jaw. It felt like being hit with a baseball bat. His teeth ripped through the inside of his mouth, blood rushing over his teeth. It took him a second to realize what had happened and he winced, swishing the blood out of his mouth and spitting. He glared at Frank only to be met with the same cold look.

"I'd watch that mouth of yours, boy. It always did get you in trouble." Frank said in a deadly quiet voice.

Jim refused to break eye contact as he spit blood again. A tense silence passed between them, neither speaking for several seconds. Finally, Jim sighed in defeat and glared at the table. "Fine. Howe much do you need?"

Frank smiled coldly and rolled his shoulders back. "Let's go for a walk, hm? It's a nice night." He grabbed his beer bottle and stood slowly, walking over behind Jim's chair and grabbing a fistful of his jacket, hauling him to his feet. His fingers dug painfully into the juncture beneath Jim's shoulder blade but the pressure didn't let up. Keeping a firm grip, Frank casually steered him through the bar and out the door. He pushed him toward the parking lot but then turned abruptly, dragging him to one side of the bar and letting go.

"And we're out here because…?"

"Come on, Jim." Frank chuckled, lighting another cigarette and taking a slow drag on it. "You can't make a business deal in a place like that." He nodded toward the bar.

Jim felt his jaw clench painfully. This was going nowhere. "Frank, tell me what you want so I can get out of here. I've already spent more time with you than I ever wanted to."

Frank shrugged and blew out smoke. "What does Starfleet pay you, Jim? About $30,000 a year?" He looked up to the docking platform that was nearly hidden by the night sky now. "And since you just became captain, I'm sure you got a pretty nice bonus. Up to about $40,000 now probably." He did a few calculations in his head and chuckled. "You're looking at close to a hundred grand, kid."

"What's your point?" Jim snapped. Money wasn't an issue; if it would get Frank the hell and gone away from him, he'd pay whatever he wanted.

"I want half."

Jim was slightly surprised but he nodded. "Fine. I'll wire it to you."

"No."

"No?"

"Cash only. I'm not stupid Jim, I know computer transactions can be traced."

Jim sighed heavily. "So why don't you just do it yourself? Hacking through a bank security system would be like a walk in the park for you."

Another shrug. "Because it's much more fun to get it from you personally."

Jim growled deeply in the back of his throat. "Fine. I'll get you cash but I can't do it now. The banks are closed."

Frank smirked and nodded. "Oh, I know. Get it to me by the end of the week and we'll call it even."

Ignoring the iciness in his voice, Jim rolled his shoulders back and looked toward the parking lot. "Are we done?"

"Not quite."

"Ugh…God, Frank what the hell do you-"

"Resign as Captain of the Enterprise."

That did cause Jim's anger to falter. "What…?"

"Resign as Captain of the Enterprise." Frank repeated simply.

For a second, the words wouldn't come. There was nothing but a cold dread welling deep in his chest. "Are you insane?!" Jim nearly shouted, his eyes scanning the parking lot absently. "Forget it!" He turned and started to walk off back toward his bike.

"Jim."

Unable to ignore the nagging confusion in the back of his mind, Jim shot over his shoulder, "Besides, if I resigned you wouldn't get your money. Nixes the deal, huh?"

"Not really.

"'Not really'" Jim muttered, striding across the parking lot irritably.

"Your resignation will take at least a day or two to process. That gives you plenty of time to empty out that portion of your account." He smirked and shrugged. "I just need enough to get out of town and on my way." He explained innocently.

"Forget it!" Jim growled again.

"Fine, fine." Frank said, taking a drink from his beer bottle. "Just make sure there's no one you care about on that next mission of yours."

Jim stopped instantly, wheeling around again. It was the second time he'd tried to leave but couldn't and it was really starting to piss him off. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He growled, stalking back toward the older man.

Frank shrugged again, another thing that was starting to piss him off. "Jim, I spent most of my life working on the computer systems for most of the Starfleet ships; I wrote the programs for at least four of them. Do you really think I couldn't work my way through them again and disable a few of the vital systems and codes for the Enterprise? I could tear down your defense shields with one key stroke. I could re-write the override systems for every corridor in that ship and make it nothing more than an orbiting prison. And you know, there's this really cool program that keeps your ship from collapsing due to the pressures of space? That could all be gone in under an hour." Frank's eyes glinted dangerously. "Simply put, son," He said, the word 'son' coming out like a slap. "You stay Captain, you're entire crew dies. Understand?"

Jim couldn't speak; he felt like the words had literally been drained from him. His mother had met Frank at the academy almost twenty years ago. He was a computer specialist and had been for most of his adult life. It was no surprise he was rewired the prison band (though it was still astounding in its own right) and there was absolutely no chance he kidding about this either. Hell, Frank could probably get past any security system on the planet with no one even realizing there had been a hack until it was too late. The Enterprise wasn't safe and neither was Starfleet. With Frank out of prison, every computer in the world was subject to attack.

"Well?" Frank asked, taking another drag on his cigarette.

Jim clenched his jaw. If he stayed Captain, every member of his crew was in danger. Becoming Captain was the only thing he'd ever done right but his crew was more important than any of that. He couldn't risk that again; not now, not ever. "Fine…I'll resign" He said, the words feeling like acid in his mouth.

"Good, glad we could come to an understanding." Frank smiled as if the news had completely mad his night. "Show me your letter of resignation, signed and dated, tomorrow evening and I'll make sure your precious ship and all of her inhabitants don't become the biggest fireworks display this side of the 4th of July."

Jim didn't answer. He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach and the warm night felt even heavier than it had before.

"See you tomorrow, Jim" Frank said, patting the younger man on the shoulder and starting back toward the bar. "Oh, and Jim," He said, turning back toward him a few seconds later. "One more thing…"

There was a glint of light and Jim didn't have a chance to react as the still half-full beer bottle slammed full force into the side of his head. There was an explosion of white and the dull feeling of his face hitting the concrete before everything went black.

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**So there it is: Frank's a prick and Jim is now unconscious in a parking lot. Woot!! Hope you liked it and I'll see you all soon!! :D**


	6. Identity Theft

**Hello all!! Hope you guys are still enjoying the story :D Okay, so there are a few things I've had pointed out to me that may need a bit of clarifying O.o First of all, I'm not entirely sure why Jim didn't go to the police immediately after getting Frank's message. Seems like a logical idea but then the plot wouldn't have progressed as much so I just left that out. I included a reason in this chapter so hopefully it makes up for that. Second, I know I promise alot of hurt Jim and I'm sorry I haven't delivered that yet. I'm trying to work up to it so it seems more believable instead of Frank just pouncing him and beating him senseless. As much as I would love to do that, my muse would nag me about the reason and I'm pretty sure my head would explode O.o So yes, there will be gratuitous hurt Jim to come but it has to build up just a bit more. And trust me, when I say gratuitious I mean broken bones, massive blood loss, gunshots, and all the other carnage by sadistic little mind can dish out lol. So really, just stick with me a bit longer and it will come, I assure you :) Third, Frank is not only an asshole but a super genius. He's like Einstein with a keyboard. If anyone has ever seen Live Free or Die Hard just think of him as being on that level. They hijacked an entire country with a few computers so I'm basing his character off of people like them. Super genius and super pissed off at Jim O.o Oh how the dominos will fall...  
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** Also, I just picked a random police station from somewhere near the Golden Gate Bridge because thats the only landmark I have to go by lol. And the navigation system seems like something they may have in the future; high tech computers in every vehicle, sound like the American dream, right?? Hehe, so I think I've covered just about everything I could in this note O.o Hope you all like it!!**

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Jim winced and groaned, opening his eyes slowly and blinking up at the sky as consciousness returned. It was still dark, the stars twinkling brightly over head. There was no telling how long he'd been sprawled in this parking lot; minutes maybe hours. He sat up slowly, ignoring the dizzying rush as he achieved altitude. His head throbbed sharply, the pain traveling down his neck and settling in his jaw where Frank's fist had connected earlier. Something warm and sticky oozed down the side of his face, the trail disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. It was blood, tacky and caked with dirt from the parking lot. Jim winced again as his fingers brushed over the swollen gash along his hairline. His clothes smelled like beer and his shirt was damp with alcohol. A sudden wave of nausea assaulted him and he clenched his fists tightly, fighting back the bile that burned the back of his throat. It took several minutes to will the sickness away and when it dissipated completely, Jim was left breathing heavily and sweating.

The nightlife of Mavericks could be heard from around the corner; apparently the place didn't get any quieter once the sun went down. There were still plenty of cars left in the parking lot and Jim vaguely wondered if his motorcycle was still there. He felt his pockets and found that his wallet and keys were still there; odd considering the earlier conversation. If Frank wanted his money then why didn't he take his wallet first? Questions for another time; his head was killing him. With a sharp intake of breath, he pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as he stood. Balance came much slower than he was used to and it took a few seconds for him to clear the inky spots that kept trying to black out his vision. _Concussion…_he thought, taking a few deep breaths. _Bones is going to be pissed…_Once he was sure he could move without toppling face first back into the parking lot, Jim slowly made his way back to the front of the bar.

Amazingly enough, his motorcycle was still there, untouched save for some dust that had managed to settle across the body in his absence. Jim glanced cautiously back to the bar; if Frank was still here he didn't see him. He needed to go to the police. In all honestly, Jim wasn't sure why he'd come in the first place; maybe to prove something to himself more than anything. But now it was abundantly clear that there were very few options in this situation. Frank was dangerous and he was willing to tear Jim down by any means necessary.

Jim fished the keys out of his pocket as he approached the motorcycle. The nearest police station was a couple miles away, just past the academy. The engine roared to life and Jim slid onto the seat, flicking on the small, on-board computer system. "Computer, set course for Richmond Police Station, 94118." The directions crackled through static, the navigator's voice jolting and fading as it spoke. Frowning, Jim flipped open the control panel and examined the wires. There didn't appear to be any reason for the static, possibly just a glitch in the system. Just then something thin and silver caught his eye, gleaming softly in the dim light. Jim plucked it from the tangle of wires and examined it carefully. It was about the size of a quarter but thin as a piece of paper, the edges shining like aluminum foil. It was an audio disk. Frowning again, Jim carefully slipped the disk into the computer's drive and waited.

"Hello Jim, nice to see you back in the world of the living." A deep voice drawled sardonically. Frank. "You know, you really should look into some better identity protection. You wouldn't believe how easy it was to make a copy of your ID card." There was a sudden drop in his stomach and Jim gripped one of the handlebars a little tighter. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, slipping his Academy ID card from its holder. It looked the same but there was a faint streak along the back of it as if it had been jammed into a portable computer drive. "That's right kiddo, I now have access to everything you have access to, including voice and fingerprint recognition. Anywhere you can go, I can go. Anything you can do, I can do as well. I have access to your phone records, email accounts, ship records, everything you think is personal and private is now linked directly to me. Catch my drift? I have your every movement pinpointed and we can play this cat and mouse game for as long as you want but I'll go ahead and ruin the ending for you: I will win." It felt like a ball of lead had settle in his chest and Jim suddenly found it harder to breathe. Frank had all of his information; name, room number, security numbers, clearance onto the Enterprise. He could take down the entire ship without ever having to break past and the security systems and it would be with Jim's own ID. The world suddenly felt much colder and going to the police seemed much more appealing. "So do me a favor and don't try anything stupid. You keep your end of the bargain and I'll keep mine. But let me just make one thing absolutely clear James Kirk: If I even think you're about to tell anyone about our little "meeting", I'll kill your mother with no hesitation. That means no cops, no Starfleet security officers, nothing. And trust me Jim, when I make a promise I always go through with it." There was a pause in the tape and nothing but silence save for the pounding of Jim's heart. "So, do we have an understanding? You resign and I'll make sure your mother stays out of this." A soft chuckle broke through the static. "Have your official resignation letter tomorrow and I'll give you the location. See you soon, kiddo." And with that the audio disk stopped, the message having been delivered and completed. The navigator's voice spoke clearly over the speakers now, requesting a specific location and a zip code.

Jim felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt like someone had punched him hard in the gut and he was struggling to suck in a breath. Quickly, he turned off the navigation system and looked out across the parking lot. A few drunks were hanging out in front of the bar smoking cigarettes and the hazy windows blocked out the rest of the patrons inside. Once again there was no sign of Frank but Jim could definitely feel the malevolence in the air. He knew Frank would have no qualms about killing his mother; it was part of what had gotten him sent to jail in the first place. He couldn't risk it; between trying to protect his mother and his crew there didn't seem to be any other option. Resignation seemed inevitable.

The city lights gleamed warmly up ahead but Jim felt nothing but coldness settling through his body. He felt numb, even the excruciating throb that radiated through his head and jaw seemed to disappear. There was a new realization, one he never wanted to face. This was a no win scenario; he was destined to fail in either situation.

It took several minutes before he could convince himself to go anywhere. Everything felt like a trap, he was being tracked relentlessly by the man who nearly killed him ten years earlier. There was no escaping it and there was no way to alert anyone to his plight without Frank knowing. This sucked out loud. With a resigned sigh, Jim revved the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, making his way back to the Academy.

**OOOOO**

It was midnight by the time he got back. The lights were off in the room and the sound of Bones' soft snoring echoed in the darkness. Jim stepped inside quietly, setting his keys down on the desk next to the door. He tried to be quiet but years of being on call and practically living in the medical rooms for most of his adult life had made Bones a particularly light sleeper.

The older man sat up sharply, instantly alert and ready to jump out of bed at a moment's notice. His eyes fell on Jim and he let out a sigh, glancing between him and the door. "Jim, it's midnight. Where the hell have you been?" He asked, his voice gruffer than normal from being awakened so abruptly.

Jim forced a smile into his voice to keep from sounding like anything was off. "Just got caught up at a bar Bones, nothing to worry about." There was a brief silence followed by an undecipherable mumble that sounded a lot like "damn kids." Jim smiled faintly and closed the door as his roommate fell back asleep.

He stepped into the restroom and closed the door, flicking on the lights and squinting against the harsh fluorescent bulbs. He looked at the mirror and grimaced at his appearance. Dirt and dried blood clung to one side of his face and a dark, mottle bruise peeked just over his temple. A jagged gash sliced through his scalp above his ear and his blond hair was stained red. Another bruise had started to form along the line of his jaw, varying shades of reds and purples outlining the point of impact. All together, he looked like hell warmed over. With a soft sigh, Jim turned on the shower and slipped out of his clothes, stepping into the warm spray. The water caused the cut to sting and throb even more but he didn't care. Blood and dirt swirled into the drain, turning the water a strange rusty brown color. For a few minutes, Jim stared at the water, watching as the colors swirled and mixed together. It was almost comforting in a grim way.

_He knows I'm here..._Jim thought darkly, remembering he had to swipe his ID card through the slot in order to get into the room. Frank was following him everywhere; he wasn't even safe in his own room. Suddenly, he needed to sit down. The walls felt too close and standing became way too hard to do. Jim sank to his knees in the shower and gripped the bottom of the tub tightly. Water streamed into his eyes and he shook his head slowly. _This is so bad….this is so so bad…_He thought over and over, clenching his teeth tightly. Frank was going to break him down until there was nothing left; he wanted Jim to suffer and to fall apart as slowly as possible. It had been ten years, ten long years since the night Frank had been arrested and disappeared from their lives forever. It was possibly the best night of Jim's life to that point.

The abuse had become a regular occurrence with him when Jim was about twelve. He could handle it though, he was strong and he could at least block out a lot of the outside world when it was happening. The situation had been about the same: the choice usually came down to either his mother or him and Jim always chose the latter. He'd tried fighting back on several occasions but it did very little good. Frank was a good fighter but he also had little remorse for the things he did. Breaking a few bones was a lesson in his eyes. So Jim learned to lie like a pro; hiding the injuries and making up stories for the ones that actually did require medical treatment. His mother suspected but every time she asked Jim would simply lie again; protecting her was his main concern. Then one night she confronted Frank directly and accusation didn't sit too well with him. Jim had come home to find his mother in a crumpled heap by the door, beaten unconscious and covered in blood. Without a second thought, Jim had tackled Frank to the ground and let out years of pent up rage and sadness on the man. Frank was still bigger than him, however, and it didn't take long for the older man to throw his off and deliver a beating of his own. Jim could vaguely remember some kind of extension cord being wrapped around his throat and strangling him when the police arrived. Frank was hauled off in the back of police car and Jim swore that if he never saw him again it would be too soon.

However, too soon happened to be a few months later when he was called to testify at the trial. Jim's mother was still recovering at the hospital, having to learn to walk again with a healing broken femur. He angrily told the courtroom about the years of abuse and explained why his mother had been in a coma for three days after the attack. The judge had stripped Frank of his rank and title and sentenced him to the next fifteen years in jail. That was the last time Jim saw him, handcuffed and hauled away by the guard. The murderous look was still fresh in his mind.

Being stripped of his title meant that Frank could never work in Starfleet again. He had been the chief computer programmer for the past eight years and had written several of the programs for the newer fleets. He was incredibly smart but total asshole to pretty much everyone he came in contact with. Why his mother had married him, Jim would never know. As much as he hated to admit it, he had learned a thing or two from Frank in the time he and his mother were married. It was part of the reason he'd managed to hack his way through the Kobyashi Maru exam.

The water became colder suddenly and Jim realized he'd been sitting in the same position for a good fifteen minutes. His legs had fallen asleep and the water was becoming colder with each passing second. Pulling himself from his reverie, Jim reached up and turned off the water, shivering slightly as it shut off. He stood carefully, not wanting to add to the concussion he already had by slipping in the tub, a grabbed a towel. He wrapped it around his waits absently and stepped out, glancing at the mirror once more.

With all the blood washed away, the gash actually didn't look too bad. That still didn't mean that Bones wasn't going to rip him a new one when he saw it. Turning off the bathroom light, Jim slipped back into the darkened room and grabbed a pair of boxers from his side of the room. He got dressed and fell onto the bed, staring blankly into the darkness. It was quiet, save for his roommate's soft breathing, and Jim had struggle with the demons again. It was going to be a terribly long night and he needed to figure out what to say at the meeting he was planning on having with his crew in the morning.

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**Okay, so was it alright?? I know Frank has all of Jim's information now but I refuse to let him get the money himself becuase its more fun to torture Jim. Hope it was alright!! :D**


	7. Resignation

**Hello all!! Wow, 100 reviews?! You guys rock so hard!! :D God, I wanted to post this alot sooner but this chapter fought me every step of the way O.o I hope it turned out okay :D**

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Trying to avoid your doctor roommate the night after you get smacked in the head with a beer bottle is like trying to nail jell-o to a tree; it just doesn't happen. Jim hardly slept the night before and had just barely closed his eyes when Bones practically pounced on him, examining the still aching gash that marred the side of his head. The older man poked and prodded and grumbled enough to bring back every painful memory from the night before and Jim was finally forced to push him off.

"Jeez, Bones. Personal space much?" Jim muttered, scrubbing his face absently with his hands and rubbing the bridge of his nose. The deep circles that had developed beneath his eyes probably did nothing for his appearance.

"So I take it you had an interesting night?" Bones replied in his typical snaky way, grabbing a few bandages from a drawer in the nightstand. He unwrapped one and covered the cut, pressing down a little too hard. He was trying to be unnecessarily rough for no reason but when Jim acted so recklessly it really frustrated him. Especially now that he was a Captain of one of the newest ships in Starfleet; a certain level of responsibility came with that.

"'Interesting' is such a relative term…" Jim muttered as another bandage was pressed over the cut. He sat quietly as Bones continued his initial exam, finishing with the head wound and moving on to check the bruise along his jaw. Normally, he would have met the doctor's snappy remarks with a few of his own but not today. He was tired and there was one hell of meeting left to deal with…

Bones seemed to notice something was off because his frown deepened and he narrowed his eyes. "You're hiding something from me."

"Huh?" Jim looked up in surprise, not realizing what had been said, only hearing the voice.

"You. Are. Hiding. Something." Bones repeated, emphasizing each word so it came out clearly. The stress lines that had developed across the younger man's forehead were like a roadmap.

Jim forced an easy smile and shook his head. "Nah, I'm alright. Just a little hung over." It could have been true; hangovers tended to make people a little more irritable than their normal behavior. After all, Jim was known for his late night debauchery in the bar scene.

"Jim…" Bones said, his dark eyes narrowing again. This wasn't the usual morning-after behavior for him and he knew it. Something was definitely off.

"Bones, really, I'm fine." Jim insisted, locking eyes with his best friend in an effort to make the lie more believable. "If there was something wrong I would tell you." He hated lying to him but Frank's threat still resounded in his head from the night before. Tell anyone and I kill your mother. Great, lying was going to become like a second language for a while…

The older man seemed unconvinced, his face showing the conflicting emotions that were swirling through him. He looked like he wanted to pry further but knew it would do very little good. One thing he'd learned from Jim was that the younger man was stubborn as hell and once he had the final word in something that's how it usually stayed. He sighed heavily and nodded. "Alright, fine. But when some girl's boyfriend shows up at our door I'm going to tell him everything short of your social security number."

_Too late for that…_Jim thought grimly but he forced another smile on his face. "Deal." He glanced at the monitor on bedside table, reading the time carefully. It was 7:45. He'd sent out a message to his crew members last night, announcing that there would be a mandatory meeting at 8:30 the next morning. His stomach did a slow, aggravated flip just thinking about it. Jim hopped off the slightly rumpled bedspread, ignoring the wave of dizziness that accompanied the movement, and nodded toward the door. "Come on, we need to head to the Enterprise. We have a meeting to attend."

**OOOOO**

The trip had been relatively silent. Jim made polite conversation with a few passing members of the other ships and smiled easily at the girls but his heart wasn't in it. He felt heavy, like his body was being weighed down with lead balloons, and his throat was dry. Several times he had to force himself to take a deep breath to abate the nerves that were dangerously close to fraying. He could feel Bones' eyes on him the entire time, watching his body language and quietly analyzing his actions but the older man never said anything.

Jim took carefully consideration into memorizing every detail of the ship as they boarded. He ran his hand along the sleek, smooth walls, counted the number of dials and switches each door possessed, committed the automated greeting to memory. He needed to remember everything, even the slightest detail, because he knew that after today he wouldn't be setting foot in these halls again. The pressurized air was cool as they walked and below the muffled sounds of engine repair could still be heard. The doors to the lift swished open softly and he was greeted by the faces of his crew as he stepped into the dining hall. It was easily the biggest room onboard so it meant that everyone would have a place to sit during the meeting.

Spock appeared next to the door a few seconds later, making his way over to the Captain in long, fluid strides. He was dressed in his normal uniform, the blue shirt contrasting sharply with his black slacks. He nodded respectfully when Jim acknowledged him, his hands folded lightly in the small of his back. "Good morning, Captain." Once Jim had smiled and returned the greeting, he turned his attention to Bones. "Dr. McCoy." The doctor mumbled good morning back and, after casting one more sideways look to Jim, walked into the room to find an empty chair.

After glancing around the room and seeing that just about everyone was sitting down, Jim offered a bright smile around the room and patted Spock on the back. "That's all for now, Mr. Spock. You can sit down." The Vulcan seemed a little hesitant to sit, feeling he should remain standing as a matter of formality, but finally relented and sat in an empty chair near the first table. Jim scanned the room again, decided there were at least six more people that needed to arrive, Scotty being one of them. They would wait a few more minutes until everyone arrived; Jim really didn't feel like repeating the announcement anymore than he had to.

"Rough night, Captain?" A distinctly female voice asked from somewhere to his right. Jim looked down to see Uhura smiling smugly as she noticed his bruised jaw and bandaged head. He gave her one of his winning smiles and winked. "Just another bar fight." The linguist rolled her eyes in annoyance and turned her attention back to the paper she'd been reading over.

Sulu and Chekov sat a few tables behind her, talking quietly to one another and Bones had managed to find a seat toward the back of the room. One of the other doors swished open and Scotty walked in trailed by five other workers from the engine room. Scotty held a wrench in one had and waved it around irritably as he spoke, threatening to hit the other workers with it. He stopped mid-tirade to wave at Jim before he continued with whatever rant he was on. Jim waited patiently for the remaining few to find a chair. He looked around the room carefully, memorizing each face and name. He knew he would still see his fellow crew members around the Academy but not like this, not all together. He wanted to remember his crew like this. Once everyone had found a seat and the attention was turned to him, Jim began.

"Good morning everyone." He greeted for starters, smiling brightly around the room. There were a few 'good mornings' back but for the most part the crew was wondering what the hell they were doing here so early in the morning when they still had two days of shore leave. Figuring he couldn't delay the inevitable forever, Jim shifted topics. "So, how are the repairs coming?" He asked, directing his attention to Scotty.

The Scottish man looked up and shrugged. "Good as can be, Cap'n." He said, gesturing with his wrench again toward the other workers who had followed him in. "Could be better if these bloody louts would leave me be. We could'a been done yesterday but they kept interfering and trying to "fix" things themselves." He muttered something under his breath that no one caught which was probably best. The other workers didn't pay much attention to the rant; they were pretty used to Scotty's moods by now.

Jim smiled and nodded. "Very good." He looked around the room once more and took a deep, steadying breath. "First of all, I wanted to start by saying how proud I was of everyone during the last mission. You all handled yourselves very well; Starfleet should be proud. The next mission is in two days, the coordinates should be delivered later on this afternoon. Hopefully you won't have to deal with anymore hostage situations." This earned a very small chuckle from a few crew members in the audience. If anyone had caught on to the fact that Jim was saying "you" instead of "we", they didn't how it. He took one more deep breath, straightening his shoulders as little. "Second, I wanted to let you know that you will be under new command for this next mission and for the remainder of your time on the Enterprise." The mood shifted abruptly and the tension could be felt immediately; Jim continued. "I have found that I'm emotionally compromised and will be resigning as Captain of the Enterprise." He said slowly, trying to remember the words Spock had used when he resigned.

A flurry of shocked voices erupted immediately, wide-eyed faces looking around the room desperately for answers. Spock stood quickly, his dark eyes widening slightly as he did. Bones uncrossed his arms slowly, a look of shock appearing on his face and Scotty dropped his wrench. Sulu and Chekov had stopped talking immediately and even Uhura looked stunned by the news.

Jim cleared his throat quietly, keeping his voice steady as he spoke. "I apologize for the sudden notice, but I am leaving you in capable hands." He nodded to Spock but his first officer barely acknowledged his new role. With a small, half-hearted smile, Jim looked around the room once more. "You are by far the finest crew I've ever worked with." _The only crew I've ever worked with_ he thought miserably. "I wish you nothing but the best of luck in your travels." There was a heavy pause before he nodded slowly, taking in one last look of the stunned faces around him. "Be careful, all of you." And with that he turned and headed for the lift.

For a few seconds no one moved, the whole room was still stuck in shocked silence. Finally, Spock pulled himself out of his surprise and followed the younger man, leaving the remaining crew members just as confused as they had been a few moments before hand. "Captain." The first officer called as he rounded a corner, seeing no sign of the younger man. He broke into a brisk walk and turned another corner just in time to see Jim pressing the button for the lift. Knowing he probably wouldn't get a response to anything other than his first name, Spock said, "Jim."

Jim paused, his hand hovering over the button. He kept his back turned but his posture was stiff and rigid. He was trying his hardest to get off the ship before anyone managed to catch up to him. No such luck. Slowly, he turned to face his first officer and gave him a watery smile. "Spock." He said, wishing he had some kind of excuse to avoid this confrontation.

The Vulcan said nothing for a second and simply eyed Jim carefully. The younger man was breathing heavily, an obvious sign of emotional distress, and he looked pale, haggard. Something was definitely wrong and he wondered if it had something to do with the man they had met yesterday. "Captain, your sudden resignation…"Spock hesitated, having to push away the human demand in his voice. "It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with your step father would it?"

For a moment, Jim's breath hitched but he recovered quickly and smiled. "No, nothing to do with that. I just have some personal matters to attend to. And I'm not Captain anymore, Mr. Spock, you are."

Spock ignored that and continued. "Captain I-"

"Jim."

"Jim, I must insist that you consider your decision carefully. Resigning as captain is…" He searched for the right word but settled on one. "Highly illogical for one experiencing a few "personal matters to attend to"."

Jim simply shook his head and smiled sadly. "Look, Spock…I can't explain it but…well, you guys are just a lot better off with me off the ship."

"But Captain-"

"Jim."

Spock sighed. "Jim, our last mission is not something that future missions can be based off of. If that is what you are concerned with-"

"It's not." Jim assured him, glancing down the hall behind him. He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Look, take care of the crew for me, okay? I know it's sudden but you'll make a good Captain." He gave him an honest smile and relaxed his shoulders. "And try to keep Scotty from killing the other workers, he's getting pretty close." He chuckled humorlessly and pressed the button for the lift, the sliding open behind him. "Take care, Spock."

Spock reacted before he could stop himself and his arm shot out, grabbing hold of the younger man's shoulder to prevent him from leaving. Jim looked at him quizzically and Spock quickly came back to his senses, pulling his arm back slowly. He blinked a few times, unsure of how that human emotion had gotten the better of him. Before he could say or do anything else, Jim slipped into the lift and the doors slid shut behind him.

**OOOOO**

The swish of the doors was one of the greatest sounds Jim could hope to hear for the moment. He was alone and for now that's that he needed. He pressed the button and the lift stopped, a deadening silence filling the chamber. A shuddering breath escaped him and Jim fell to his knees, clutching the wall for support. He didn't want to break down here, couldn't afford to knowing that he was still in the ship, but he couldn't help it. His shoulders shook and he struggled to breathe and the edges of his vision turned white from lack of oxygen. He felt like he was suffocating and hyperventilating at the same time and neither was a good feeling to have. One hand gripped into a fist and he slammed his hand as hard as he could into the floor, the soft crack of his little finger breaking enough to jar him out of his attack. Breathing through the pain, he straightened into a sitting position and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. For several minutes he sat like that, leaning against the wall and trying to think of nothing but breathing. Finally, he pushed himself to stand and he pressed the button again, letting the lift take him to the entrance level.

The doors slid open and Jim stepped out just in time to be grabbed by a very irritated, very confused Bones. The older man steered him into a side room before Jim could protest and shoved him into a chair. "Alright, Kirk. Spill it." He growled, his dark eyes narrowed dangerously.

Jim sighed and shook his head. "Bones-"

"And don't even think about trying to bullshit your way out of this." The older man snapped angrily, crossing his arms over his chest. "Talk."

There was another heavy silence and Jim shook his head. "Bones…I can't tell you…"

"Bullshit!" The doctor crouched down so his was eye-level with the younger man and glared at him. "Jim, I've known you long enough to know that you wouldn't back out of this for a stupid reason and I want to know what it is!"

"Bones I-"

"Dammit Jim, why?!"

"Because I'm a screw-up alright?!" Jim snapped sharply, his blue eyes narrowing in anger. He clenched his injured hand tight to keep himself from yelling again. "You know it, Spock knows it, everyone knows it…Bones, if I stay on this ship then I'm endangering all of you. I stay, you die; got it?!" The pain in his hand was intense but not nearly as bad as the emptiness he felt inside. He shook his head slowly. "I can't do this, Leonard…" He said, taking the older man by surprise for the second time in ten minutes. He'd only called Bones by his first name once and he threatened to beat him within an inch of his life if he ever did it again. "I can't be the reason you guys get hurt…not again…"

Bones stayed quiet for a second. It almost sounded like Jim was talking about something else entirely but he wasn't sure what. "Jim, listen to me; you turn in your resignation to Pike and you're done. You understand that? Done. Forever. The Academy takes resignation very seriously…" He let the words sink in and shook his head. "Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist but I know that whatever this is you can work it out. You don't have to resign." He cupped the younger man's face in his hands, forcing him to look at him. "Jim, you can deal with this, I'll help you, but you can't just quit everything we've worked for for the past three years."

Jim grabbed the doctor's wrists, holding on gently and looked at the floor. "Bones, I'm sorry but…you can't help me this time. This time…there is no "fixing" it…this is a no win scenario…"

The deadness in Jim's voice startled McCoy enough to let go. He'd never heard such defeat from his best friend and to be honest it scared him. Jim was easily one of the most easy-going, optimistic people he'd ever known and something was definitely wrong now. "Jim…you can't…" He protested weakly, unable to think of anything else to say. There were so many questions tumbling around in his head he couldn't pick one to start with.

Jim simply shook his head slowly and stood. "I'm sorry Bones, but I have to…" He placed his hand on his best friend's shoulder and looked to the hallway again. "I need to go talk to Pike…" And with that, Jim walked away and stepped off the Enterprise without looking back.

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**So was it God-awful or okay?? I had a really hard time developing the reactions -.-; Oh well, some good old-fashioned beat down is in the next chapter!! :D**


	8. New Deal

**Okay, so as promised here's the gratuitous Jim beat-down! Hope you all like it ya bunch of sadists :P**

**Also, poor Jim is going to have no privacy by the end of all this O.o Geez, between Frank and Pike he's not going to be able to do much of anything without being watched...Poor guy lol. And special thanks to Janiqua for the idea with Pike!! Thanks so much!! :D**

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Pike frowned and laced his fingers together, peering across the desk at the young man in front of him. "And your reasons for resignation would be…?" He asked, hoping to get some kind of decent answer from Jim.

The younger man shrugged fruitlessly and looked away slightly. Ever since coming to the Academy, Pike had been the mentor/father-figure Jim had never had. He respected him and looked up to him which made coming into his office and telling him he was going to resign so much harder. It made him physically sick to his stomach to be perfectly honest. Jim glanced up, his eyes catching the gleaming lenses of a security camera perched near the back window. He glared at it hatefully, knowing Frank was probably watching this conversation right now. Pike was smart; he could try dropping a hint to him about the situation in hopes that he would understand but then again, Frank was smart too. Any attempts at explaining himself directly could mean the death of his mother or his crew. Dammit. "My reasons are my own…" He said finally, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Pike eyed him carefully, taking note of the slouched posture and downcast eyes, both of which were very un-Jim-like behaviors. Something was wrong that he wasn't telling him. "No."

"Sir?" Jim blinked and looked up in confusion.

"I said no, I'm not accepting your resignation." Pike shrugged casually and shuffled some papers on his desk. "If you can't provide me with an acceptable reason as to why you're suddenly resigning after being appointed captain of a Starfleet ship for less than a month, then I'm afraid I can't accept it." He leaned a little closer , eyeing the younger man carefully. "Jim, what's going on? If there's something you're not telling me-"

"It's nothing." Jim said quickly, biting back the bitterness in his voice. God, he wanted nothing more than to blurt out everything Frank was planning right then and there but he couldn't. God damn the advances in surveillance. "Sir, I appreciate your concern and wish I could provide you with a better reason for my actions but I have none…" He sighed and looked at the tiny model of a ship nearly identical to the Enterprise on Pike's desk. "I'm not cut out to be a captain…you know that…"

Pike's frown deepened and his dark eyes narrowed slightly. "And what makes you think that, Jim?"

"Well, I mean look at what happened on the last mission. We wrecked the ship, I nearly got Emissary McNeil killed…all this on a mission that should have been handled blind-folded. Do you really think a good captain would let something like that happen?"

The older man sighed and leaned back. Jim had a serious perfectionist complex and hated making mistakes no matter how minor. He knew that most people would feeling guilty about the performance of the past mission but Jim was taking it twice as bad. "Jim, what makes a good captain are the attributes and qualities which you displayed under such extremes. You reacted quickly and wisely and probably saved more lives than you know. I realize the last mission didn't exactly go as planned but you made the right decisions throughout. Try giving yourself a little bit of credit instead of nothing but blame."

Jim didn't say anything to Pike's analysis. He wanted to believe what he was saying but the nagging presence in the back of his mind refused to allow it. _You stay Captain, you're entire crew dies. _Frank's voice echoed in his head and he closed his eyes slowly, trying to block it out.

Seeing he was doing nothing to change his mind, Pike sighed again and pulled out a sheet of paper from the drawer of his desk. "Look Jim, I'm going to put you on academic suspension for the remainder of the week. That means you won't be accompanying your crew or the Enterprise on their next mission and Spock will remain as acting Captain until stated otherwise. If you still feel the same about your resignation by the end of the week…" Pike faded off, not really wanting to finish the thought. "Well, we'll talk about that then. Deal?"

The younger man nodded slowly, unable to meet the Admiral's eyes as he handed him the sheet of paper. He nodded slightly and stood, folding the paper in his hand and tucking in his pocket. "Sir." He said quietly, nodding respectfully before walking to the door and slipping outside.

Pike watched him leave, a heavy knot forming in the pit of his stomach. Something was definitely wrong with this situation and he didn't like it at all. "Computer," He said softly, turning as a small, flat monitor appeared out of the surface of the desk. "Wire surveillance system to track movements of Cadet 0849, James Kirk." The screen divided into several smaller screens, each one displaying a different camera's feed. Unfortunately, the dorm rooms lacked video lines but all of the hallways and classrooms of the Academy were equipped with several security cameras. He could follow Jim's movements discreetly without ever alerting the younger man that he was being watched. Pike frowned, watching as a black and white image of Jim walked stiffly down the hall before disappearing into his room. He was determined to find out what was going on.

**OOOOO**

The door to his room slid open softly and Jim stepped inside, dropping the paper and his key onto the desk near the door. The room was dark and cold; Bones probably wouldn't be back until much later in the afternoon. However, despite the absence of his roommate, the room was definitely not empty.

Frank sat in a desk chair, one leg crossed over the other like he was ready to make a financial deal. Jim jumped slightly when he saw him but he had to admit he wasn't entirely surprised; he did have a copy of his key after all. "You didn't stick to our arrangement, Jim." Frank pointed out coldly as the younger man recovered from his shock. "I said resign, not suspension." He pressed a button on the monitor and a fuzzy image from Pike's office appeared on the screen. _Look Jim, I'm going to put you on academic suspension for the remainder of the week. _Pike's voice repeated the conversation they'd had a few minutes earlier and Jim could see himself sitting uncomfortably in the chair across from him.

Jim growled, clenching his teeth sharply. "Look, I'm off for the rest of the week and by the time I go back I'll be out for good. Either way I can't go near the ship so what does it matter?"

Frank shrugged slightly and re-wound the tape until it faded to black. "How do I know you won't just change your mind once the week is up?"

"I won't." Jim glared hatefully at him, wanting nothing more than to rip that arrogant smirk off his face. "And besides it doesn't work that way. Resignation is pretty permanent."

Frank chuckled darkly and nodded. "That it is." He allowed, pressing another button on the monitor. The computer switched through a few different systems before coming to a program that was comparable to an answering machine. He hit the play button and a frantic female voice filled the room. "Jim? Jim, honey it's mom. Listen, I got a call from Frank yesterday…he's out of prison. Jim, I want you to stay as far away from him as possible, understand? If he tries to contact you at all I want you to-" The voice was cut off at the message was paused. Frank's eyes glinted maliciously.

Jim felt an icy stab in his stomach and his face felt hot immediately. "You son of a bitch! If you've done anything to her-!"

"Oh, don't worry, I haven't done anything. Yet."

Jim reacted before he could stop himself and lunged across the room, grabbing Frank by the front of the shirt and slamming him into the wall. The element of surprise allowed him to get at least three good blows in before Frank recovered. He grabbed a handful of Jim's neck and brought his knee up fast and hard, easily breaking the younger man's nose.

Jim stumbled back, pain and the sudden dizziness making him lose his balance. The loss was just what Frank needed because he swiped Jim's legs out from under him and watched as he fell. The younger man's head connected sharply with the edge of he desk and his vision darkened for a split second. He tried to regain his footing but the painful crack of Frank's boot crashing into his ribs kept him on the ground. The air was knocked out of him with each blow, the unmistakable snap of a rib accompanying a few of them. Jim gasped in pain and managed to grab the leg of the chair, jerking it out and knocking Frank to the floor as well. He struggled to his knees and landed a few more punches before he was thrown into door.

Frank tangled his hand into a fistful of Jim's hair and slammed his head into the wall a few more times for good measure. "You know," He said, releasing the younger man in huff and watching as he struggled to remain conscious. "It didn't have to come to this. We could have been civil." He spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor and stood.

"Yeah…" Jim groaned, tasting the bitter tang of blood in his mouth. "You and civil go hand in hand." He kicked out sharply, catching Frank's ankle and causing him to topple back into the opposite wall, knocking over a framed certificate on the wall. The glass shattered loudly, littering the floor with glittering shards. Jim had barely made it to his knees before another foot crashed into his side, breaking another rib and causing him to collapse to the floor in agony. He couldn't breathe for several seconds and wasn't even aware that Frank had pinned him to the floor until his felt the older man's arm pressing into the back of his neck. He struggled weakly, both the pain and Frank's combined weight causing his efforts to be pretty much useless.

"You've got balls, kid. I'll give you that." Frank muttered from above him, wincing as he wiped blood away from his newly split lip. "But I'm always going to have the upper hand." White-hot pain rippled through him as something sharp pierced the back of his shirt, slicing through fabric and skin at the same time. Jim bit back a cry and grit his teeth, struggling harder to get free. Another slice ripped through his shirt and he could feel fresh blood covering his back and running down his sides. _It figures Frank would use broken glass as a weapon_ he managed to think through the pain. Each cut felt deeper than the last, blood streaming in rivulets across his back, but no matter how much he struggled he couldn't break free.

"What…do you want…?!" He growled finally, his breath coming in sharp gasps.

Frank stopped the cutting and dropped the glass onto the floor. "I'll accept your "suspension" for a price. 75% and I'll even promise not to call your mother again."

Jim winced, blood oozing from his broken nose and forming a small puddle on the floor. The original price to get Frank to leave had jumped from half to 75% and he still wasn't satisfied. "Why…should I trust you…" He asked, struggling to breathe beneath the added weight on his back and neck.

He could practically hear the smirk in Frank's voice as he leaned closer. "You can't. But you really don't have a choice, no do you?" The weight was suddenly removed from his back and Jim was able to curl onto his side, gasping and coughing in pain. Frank stood slowly, popping his neck on the way up, and glared down at Jim. "Have the money ready by tomorrow, Jim. I'm starting to lose my patience with you." He gave him one final kick in his already broken ribs before swinging open the door and disappearing into the hall way.

Jim couldn't move for a long time; it was a chore just to breathe without wanting to pass out. His head throbbed with ever heartbeat and his ribs and back didn't feel much better. He could feel sticky blood clinging to his shirt, binding it to him like a second skin. He didn't know how many cuts lined his back now, four maybe five, but each breath felt like someone ripping them open further. He resisted the urge to simply give in and pass out knowing that if he did he probably wouldn't wake up. Struggling to his knees was quite possibly the hardest thing he'd done in a long time and for a few minutes the waves of nausea threatened to send him right back to the floor.

Taking slow, shallow breaths, Jim looked around the room carefully, taking in the extent of the damage. Blood stained the floor in various places, contrasting sharply against the white tile. The chair was in the middle of the floor and broken glass littered the corner against the opposite wall. Simply put, it looked like a hurricane had ripped through the room. Jim sighed, touching his broken nose gingerly and frowning at the swelling that was already forming. He needed to get this place cleaned up before Bones got back; something he really didn't want to have to explain right now.

Pulling himself to his feet slowly, gasping as the straightening of each vertebrae caused his ribs to protest and his back to sting all over again, Jim made his way into the bathroom to get the basket of cleaning supplies out from under the sink. He barely made it into the room before the nausea won out and he collapsed in front of the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach into the bowl. The force caused his nose to start bleeding again and he gagged as blood mixed with bile. Tears stung his eyes, both from pain and frustration and he closed his eyes tightly, refusing to let them fall. He would not give Frank the satisfaction of breaking him completely; he'd rather die first. Another few minutes passed before the last of the sickness left him and he was able to climb to his feet again. He grabbed the cleaning supplies and headed back into the room to start straightening up.

It didn't take as long as he thought it would, maybe because the cleaning helped him focus on something other than the pain radiating through every inch of his body. The glass was swept away and the blood came up easily, replaced by the smell of Lysol and disinfectant. He had just stooped to pick up the remains of the picture frame when something thin and silver caught his eye. Frowning, he reached beneath the desk and pulled back a thin band. It looked familiar and Jim realized with a start that it was Frank's prison identification band. He examined it carefully, looking over the wires and circuits that had been tripped and tampered with. Reverse technology shouldn't be too hard; he'd mastered that subject his first year at the Academy.

Jim frowned and looked around the room carefully. There were cameras in here but Frank could trace his online activity and he needed a computer. Ruffling through the drawer of the desk, he pulled out Bones' ID card from the previous year. They were required to get a new card every year but the information stayed pretty much the same from one year to the next. And besides, its not like Bones needed this one, he had a new one for the Enterprise already. With a small, broken smile, Jim tucked the card in his pocket and stood slowly, making his way to the door. He had an idea but not alot of time to do it.

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**Okay, so I'm not really sure why Frank still had the prison ID band with him O.o Maybe if I were a better author I'd have a good reason for it but I don't so...*points* hey look, Jim is bleeding!! *run away while everyone looks up***


	9. Urgent Meeting

**Yay!! A lot more Bones and Spock in this chapter!! I've kind of neglected them :( Oh well, hope you all like it!!**

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Leonard McCoy was irritated. No, scratch that; he was angry. No, scratch that as well; he was downright pissed off. He grumbled irritably to himself as his fingers danced across the keyboard, hitting the keys unnecessarily hard in a series of loud 'clacks' and 'ticks'. He kept replaying Jim's resignation over and over in his head and he simply couldn't push away the heavy weight that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong, very wrong, and he couldn't decide whether he was angry at Jim for not telling him or angry at himself for not doing more to stop him. Either way, it frustrated and worried him and he was not someone who liked to be worried. Somehow it seemed he'd done nothing but worry for the past six months, ever since his impulsive best friend had started taking the idea of being a member of Starfleet seriously. Jim definitely had the makings of a great captain but his brash, reckless behavior would be his downfall if he wasn't careful. McCoy sighed and pulled out another file, updating the information in the computer system.

He'd managed to replace just about all of the files that had been lost when the ship was attacked by Nero but procrastination was one of his greatest weaknesses and he'd blown off the remainder of the files and programs for other things. But now it seemed to be the only thing he wanted to do; whatever would keep his mind off the nagging anxiety that gnawed at his gut. McCoy glanced at his watch, sighing when he realized he got off in about two hours. He wanted nothing more than to get back down to the Academy, find Jim, and throttle him. Sometimes a good throttling was in order and he didn't think he could be the patient, understanding best friend he should be right now. Jim definitely had some explaining to do, even if he had to tie him down and drug it out of him (and he had the drugs necessary to do that).

A tiny chime from the computer brought him back down to reality and he looked at the screen, noticing the small envelope shaped icon at the corner. Frowning, he clicked on it and opened a message from Pike.

The message was simple: 'Please come to my office immediately upon your arrival back at the Academy. Urgent meeting.' There was no signature, no reasons given, nothing. The letter said all it needed to in just two short sentences.

_Hm, guess he talked to Jim_ McCoy thought bitterly, closing the message without a second glance. He looked back at his watch absently; only five minutes had passed. McCoy sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying desperately to ward off the headache that was rapidly approaching. Good God he needed a drink…

**OOOOO**

Spock frowned as he stared at the Bridge before him, taking in the stunned silence of the crew as they tried to process the rapid departure of their captain earlier that day. It seemed like the entire atmosphere of the ship had deflated around them. It seemed strange that one person could have such an affect on so many but apparently that's what had occurred with the Captain's resignation.

The entire situation bothered Spock, maybe more than he would like to admit. Granted, he and Jim hadn't exactly started out on the best terms but over the past few weeks they had developed a bit of an understanding of one another. It wasn't friendship yet, not even close, but the makings were there and it was beginning to come more naturally to the two of them. They still butted heads on a pretty regular basis, arguing about petty things that shouldn't really matter in the long run, but the overt animosity was gone. Spock frowned again, standing for the third time in under an hour and pacing in front of the Captain's chair. He needed to think and the consistency of the work on the Bridge normally would have been enough but right now it was distracting. "Mr. Sulu, you're in charge." He said, stepping out of the room and heading down a side hall.

"Yes sir." Sulu answered hollowly, keeping his eyes on his own station. Beside him, Chekov nodded just enough to be noticed before returning to whatever he had been working on.

Uhura watched Spock leave from her station and stood up a few seconds after he disappeared, following along behind him. There were a few members of the crew who knew about their relationship but that didn't mean she wanted to broadcast it all over the ship. So she followed discreetly, walking slowly and deliberately like she wasn't intending to follow anyone.

She rounded a corner, nearly running into the older man's back as she did. Spock had stopped to speak with one of the members from the engine room, asking him how the repairs were coming. The conversation was short and once the man had turned and walked back to his station, Spock turned to face her.

"Nyota." He said quietly, his eyes softening the way they only did when she was around.

Without a second though, Uhura wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder. She didn't say anything for several seconds, there was nothing to say. Strong arms wrapped around her back, holding her close and the embrace lasted for nearly a minute before either of them let go. Finally, Uhura pulled away and looked up at him, her dark eyes questioning him. "What are we going to do?" She asked quietly, glancing down the hallways for anyone who may be approaching.

Spock shook his head slowly and looked back toward the Bridge. "I…don't know." He said finally, shaking his head once more. He hated not knowing, it bothered him greatly. But part of him did know what the answer for the Captain's resignation was and that only served to frustrate him more.

Uhura nodded her understanding and was silent for a few seconds. True, she didn't like Jim all that much, he had a tendency to run her the wrong way just b breathing. But she did know something was wrong with him and for some reason it worried her. For the past three years Jim Kirk had been nothing but and arrogant, cocky jerk who usually acted like he was God's gift to women. Gaila had fallen for it and so had countless other female cadets over the years. However, there was none of that usual spark of personality earlier today when he resigned. He looked restless, upset, and worst of all, defeated. There was something horribly wrong with the way he spoke and the very real pain in his eyes as he left. Uhura didn't like it at all.

"Admiral Pike sent me a message earlier." Spock said after a second, looking back at her as he spoke. "I'm going to meet with him once we return to the Academy. Perhaps he can provide some insight as to how we should proceed."

Uhura nodded slowly, squeezing his arm softly. "It will be okay." She didn't know who she was trying to convince, him or herself.

**OOOOO**

The remainder of the day passed by without a problem and soon the crew was on their way back to the Academy. McCoy felt like he couldn't get off the ship fast enough. He squeezed and threaded his way through the exiting crew members, slipping through the doors and turning into a hallway that would take him to the main building. He had been walking for a good five minutes before he ever realized he was being followed. "Spock?" He said, slightly surprised to see the Vulcan was heading in the same direction he was.

"Dr. McCoy." The first officer replied coolly, nodding slightly in his direction. "May I inquire as to where you are going?"

"Pike sent me a message earlier. He said to come to his office for an urgent meeting."

Spock nodded slowly and came into stride with the CMO. "I received the same message. I believe it pertains to our Captain's decision earlier in the day."

"Yeah, you're telling me." McCoy growled under his breath, stopping in front of Pike's door and knocking carefully. The door slid open silently and both men stepped inside, standing in front of the admiral's desk respectfully.

"Thank you both for coming." Pike said, nodding for them both to sit down. He looked tired, worn and strained, the usual smile lines near his eyes were gone. Once both men were sitting, Pike leaned forward, clasping his hands together lightly. "I believe you both know why you're here?"

McCoy nodded and spoke up first. "Jim talked to you, didn't he?"

Pike nodded. "He did."

"Did he resign?"

There was a hesitation and both men felt the heaviness growing with each passing second. "He tried to," Pike began, pulling out a form from his desk drawer. "But I put him on academic suspension instead.

McCoy sighed heavily and Spock couldn't help but feel relieved by the decision. It seemed strange but he wanted Jim to come back as the Captain and the fact that he hadn't resigned completely was a welcome thought.

"What I want to know is why he decided to resign in the first place." Pike said, looking between the two of them carefully. "McCoy, you know Jim as well as I do so you know this is not something he would normally do. Can you think of any reason he may have for wanting to resign? Any trouble with his mother or anything back home?"

McCoy frowned and shook his head. "No, nothing that I can think of. I know Jim hasn't talked to his mom in a while but I haven't heard anything that would imply something was wrong…"

Spock cleared his throat softly, immediately getting the attention of the other two men. "If I may, I believe I may know the reason…"

"What is it?" Both Pike and McCoy asked at once, looking at him expectantly.

"Yesterday when we were returning from the Review Board, Jim happened to run into a man who claimed to be his stepfather. The reunion seemed to trouble him but he would not elaborate a reason. I have a feeling this may be part of his decision to quit; something to do with this man."

There was a brief silence before either of the other two men spoke. "And you didn't think to mention this earlier?!" McCoy demanded, looking at him incredulously.

"Pardon my hesitation, doctor." Spock replied coolly. "I was unaware that this information was so crucial to the situation at hand."

"Crucial?!" McCoy's eyes widened and he looked about ready to punch something. "You noticed something was off immediately after meeting this guy and you didn't think it was crucial?!"

"Enough you two." Pike said, cutting them off instantly. He sighed and looked back at Spock. "Did Jim tell you the man's name?"

"Yes, he said his name was Frank."

"Hm." Pike ruffled around through a folder sitting on his desk and stopped when he got to the file he wanted. "When Jim applied for Starfleet he mentioned his mother had gotten re-married but he never said anything more than that. I managed to get a hold of a few of his medical records and found something rather disturbing." He pulled another file from the folder and passed it to McCoy.

The doctor looked over the record carefully, his eyes widening in shock. "Good God…a skull fracture…multiple broken ribs…a lacerated liver?! When the hell did all of this happen?!"

Pike shook his head slowly. "When Jim was about fifteen he and his mother were admitted to the hospital after Jim's stepfather attacked them. He was arrested but the name on this file isn't the same as the one you gave me. According to this the man's name was Richard Morrows." He passed another paper across the table, this time to Spock. "Is this the man you saw?"

Spock examined the photograph carefully. The man in the picture looked more clean-shaven, better dressed and well-groomed but it was definitely him. "Yes."

Pike nodded. "I figured as much. I contacted the prison system to let them know they had a missing prisoner but the said everyone was there and accounted for. Its impossible to know ever prisoner by their appearance so it was hard to convince them they were missing anyone; after all if they have their prison ID band they're technically still in the system."

"But we saw him yesterday afternoon." Spock protested, looking back at the picture to reassure himself.

"I understand." Pike said, shuffling the papers back into the folder and looking between the two of them. "Somehow, 'Frank' managed to slip through the system and came here in search of Jim. I'm afraid your young Captain is in very real danger."

"We need to find him." Spock said, pushing back the guilt welling in his chest. He knew something was wrong immediately after meeting this man and he hadn't said anything. Now Jim was in danger and this man was loose on Academy grounds.

Pike nodded again and pressed a button, the monitor behind him flickering to life. "I've already alerted Campus Police and they're keeping an eye out for him and for 'Frank'. No one seems to have seen either of them. I have a surveillance link tracking Jim but it only works here on campus…" He pulled up the last footage he'd gotten of Jim. "This was taken from the Communications Room around 4 o'clock this afternoon."

The screen showed Jim working at a computer station, busily typing away and scribbling a few notes on a pad of paper next to him. There was a diagram on the paper along with several sketches and drawing of something they couldn't make out. Jim had stayed in the room for about two hours, working non-stop on the same computer and printing out page after page of information. Finally, at 6:18, he stood slowly, the movement obviously causing him a tremendous amount of pain, and limped him way to a back door where no one would see him. However, just before he passed through the door, the camera managed to catch a side view of his face and the full extent of the bruising could be seen.

"Jesus…" McCoy whispered, his eyes widening as he looked at the frozen image. Jim obviously had a black eye along with a split lip that was bruised and swollen. His hair was disheveled and he looked like he had gone one-on-one with a professional boxer or a tank. "Jim…"

Pike shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately that was the last anyone has seen of him. I can track his movements through the camera feed and by where he uses his ID card but if he's stopped using it or left Academy grounds…" He faded off, not happy with the only answer that he could give them.

Spock and McCoy stared at the picture of their broken Captain, dread filling them. Frank was here, he had more than likely done all of that, and now Jim was nowhere to be found. Today was just getting better and better.

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**Okay, so Jim is off doing whatever-the-hell and no one can find him O.o Suck...He'll reappear in the next chapter though!! Hope this wasn't confusing or anything!!**


	10. Countdown

**Hello all!! Okay, I'll be perfectly honest when I say that I'm not terribly happy with this chapter. I'm not sure why but it was extremely difficult to write and I actually re-wrote it twice before ever settling on this version. I had originally planned for Frank to find out about Pike's meeting with Spock and McCoy but the more I thought about it the more I decided Jim needed at least a little bit of a break O.o Jeez, I've beaten him half-senseless already... So I changed it to this in defeat. And I still don't like it!! -.-; *Le sigh* I'm sorry, I'm kinda frazzled with finals so if this chapter isn't my best work then I sincerely apologize!! O.o I really hope the next one turns out better!! XD**

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The crowd in the bar was large this time of night, waitresses bustling in and out of the sea of people clumped together in in tight groups. Nearly every television in the room was tuned to a different sports channel and there were a few games of pool going on in one of the far corners. While this bar wasn't quite as seedy as Mavericks, it was just far enough away from the Academy that no one would recognize him here. Jim winced faintly as he took a deep breath and finished the rest of his beer.

He'd spent nearly the entire day in one of the open computer rooms on campus. Word had traveled fast about his "resignation" earlier in the day and several of the younger cadets would wander by his chair, hesitating as if they wanted to ask him something before giving up and walking off. The attention was getting to be too much and Jim had called it a night, choosing to go completely off Academy grounds to avoid any unnecessary confrontations. The information he'd managed to gather and put to use had been worth it though; he just needed to make a few more adjustments and everything would be done.

The room smelled heavily of alcohol and cigarette smoke which made it even harder to breathe. His chest ached with each breath he took, the painful inhales stretching out the gashes in his back and the exhales pressing sharply into his broken ribs. He'd cleaned a lot of the noticeable blood off his face and arms but he couldn't do much about the consistent trickle down his back. It was pretty pointless trying to bandage the cuts as well; unfortunately he had been born human and couldn't reach his back. His head swam dizzily throughout the evening and there were a few times when he had to force himself to stand up just to keep from passing out at his computer desk. He was in pretty bad shape and he knew it but if everything worked out tomorrow then he would never have to worry about Frank again and he'd be free. If it didn't…well, he didn't want to think about that at the moment.

Jim squeezed his eyes shut, wincing beneath the broken nose and black eyes. He'd gotten plenty of strange looks during the evening, some people even offering to take him to the hospital but Jim would just smile politely and decline. Hospitals were definitely not something he wanted to deal with right now. Granted, it would probably be more helpful than he wanted to admit but for now he was fine with a beer and place where no one knew his name.

A pretty blond waitress passed by his table and Jim reached out to touch her arm. "Can I get another beer?" He asked, smiling lightly at the young woman's startled look. Her eyes softened after a second and she nodded.

"Of course. Anything else?"

Jim thought for a second, chewing absently on his busted lip. "Yeah, a shot of Jack. Straight up."

"His shot's on me." A voice said from somewhere behind him and Uhura slid into the chair opposite him.

"Crap."

"Nice to see you too." Uhura snapped back, smiling at the waitress as she walked away.

"How did you know I was here?" Jim asked, still stunned by the lieutenant's appearance.

"I got a tip from someone at the Academy." Uhura replied, turning back to face Jim. "Everyone's looking for you." Her dark eyes filled with concern as she took in the full extent of the damage. "Jesus Kirk…what the hell happened to you…?"

Jim frowned, looking at the table. So much for no one knowing his name. "Just had a rough couple of days." He said finally, flashing her his trademark grin.

"Bullshit." Uhura's eyes narrowed in a mixture of irritation and concern and she leaned forward so she was closer to him. "Jim, I'm not stupid and neither is the rest of your crew…" She sighed, softening her voice and reaching out to touch his bruised, bloody knuckles. "Please…just tell us what's going on and we can help you…"

Jim looked down and shook his head. "I can't."

The lieutenant blinked in surprise and raised and eyebrow. "You can't?"

"No, it's just…it's complicated…" Jim sighed and looked out into the mass of nameless faces that filled the bar, wishing he could be one of them. He took a shallow breath, biting back the grimace that tried to follow it, and looked back at her. "This is something I have to do on my own. Besides, its better this way."

Uhura's frown deepened and she crossed her arms. She may not think Kirk was the greatest person in the world but that didn't mean she wanted to see him beaten and broken like he was now. "Why not?" She asked finally, watching his face carefully. "Why is it so hard to ask for help and accept that fact that maybe some of us want you back on the ship?"

Jim stifled a smile and refused to meet her eyes for a second. Saying that must have taken a lot of guts for her and he wasn't going to make it worse with his usual sarcasm. He sobered up and leaned back in his chair, trying to take a little bit of pressure off his injured ribs. "My mom told me when I was little that my father used to have this code he followed even to his death. A "Captain's Code" he called it. For him it meant that the safety of your crew comes before anything else, no matter what the situation." He paused as the waitress reappeared beside their table and set the drinks down. Uhura handed her a handful of bills, telling her to keep the change and turned her attention back to Jim. The younger man hesitated for a split second before continuing. "Uhura, becoming Captain of the Enterprise was probably the best thing that ever happened to me…it's the only thing I've ever managed to do right in my life." He shook his head bitterly and downed the whiskey, chasing it with the beer and wincing as the stout alcohol burned his split lip. "But I have to live by that code as well and right now I've found a situation where you guys come first."

For a few seconds, Uhura didn't know what to say. She had never seen this side of Jim Kirk before, the serious, compassionate version of the man who had become her Captain. It was surprising after having known him as the cocky playboy for the past three years.

"Listen, everything will work out." Jim said and was almost able to pass off a carefree smile. "I just have to handle things on my own for a while."

"But Kirk-"

Jim shook his head, cutting her off. "Uhura, trust me okay?"

She wanted to protest further, to argue and convince him that whatever he was doing was going to destroy him. But for some reason the words wouldn't come and all she could do was nod. She was proud and worried for him at the same time. She wanted to encourage him and talk him down in the same sentence. It was an odd mix of emotions, one she wasn't entirely sure she liked, but she found she could think of absolutely nothing to say at the moment. "Jim-"

But Jim was already standing, pushing his chair in and dropping his nearly full beer into a trashcan next to the table. His movements were stiff and measured but he offered her an easy smile and winked. "I'll be fine." He said, answering the question that had been sitting on the tip of her tongue for the past ten minutes. He leaned across the table, giving her a friendly peck on the cheek before turning and walking out of the bar.

Uhura sat speechlessly for a seconds, unable to say or do much of anything. Jim's demeanor and change of character had been surprising enough but when he kissed her she hadn't wanted to punch him through the wall. It felt like goodbye, like she would never see him again after he'd left and a feeling of dread clenched in her stomach. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a small communicator and turned it on. She needed to tell Spock about the meeting.

**OOOOO**

The dust hung in the air in the parking lot like a fog and Jim stifled a cough as he exited the bar. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for about four days but he still had a lot to do before rest was an option. He stepped out into the parking lot, walking slowly and digging his hands deep into his pockets. He still had Bones' old ID card so he could go back to the computer lab when he got back to the Academy. No one would be in there this time of night so it would be a good time to finish his project. He turned onto a quiet side street, away from the crowded bar, and walked down the sidewalk, contemplating the rest of the structural diagrams he'd found earlier in the day.

"Pretty girl." A voice said from a darkened corner and Jim froze instantly, the muscles in his back becoming rigid and stiff. "What did you two talk about?"

Jim's eyes narrowed and he turned to face the shadowed form of his step-father. "It's none of your business." He snapped sharply, fist clenching at his side. "How the hell did you find me anyway?"

"I followed you." Frank explained easily, flicking the cigarette he had into the dirt. "So, what's her name?" He asked, inclining his head back in the direction of the bar. When Jim didn't answer Frank simply shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. "I could go ask her myself."

"You stay the hell away from her." Jim growled, stepping forward and closing the distance between them in an instant.

"Ohh, I see." Frank chuckled darkly. "She's important to you, isn't she?" He laughed again and stepped a little closer. "So what is it Jim? Is this the real deal or do you keep her around because she's a good fuck?"

Jim swung before he could stop himself, crashing his fist into Frank's jaw and sending the older man stumbling backwards into the wall of the building behind them. His muscles still ached from the fight earlier but he couldn't help it, he wasn't going to stand by idly while Frank insulted his lieutenant. He was breathing heavily, gritting his teeth against the pain in his ribs, and clenching his fists so hard his knuckles had gone white. "If you ever say anything like that about her again, I'll kill you."

Frank smirked, spitting blood, and lunged, grabbing Jim by the front of the shirt before he could avoid it. He jerked him forward, slamming him violently into the rough brick of the building and punching him solidly in the back. Jim gasped as the impact jarred his already broken ribs and staggered just in time to get a knee to the jaw. He collapsed onto the ground, stunned from the blow but coherent enough to avoid another one. He grabbed Frank's ankle and pulled sideways sharply, knocking him into the hood of parked car. Frank growled in rage and grabbed Jim by his collar, hoisting him up easily and throwing him into the windshield. Glass buckled and shattered beneath him and Jim vaguely wondered how many concussions he'd gotten in the past twenty-four hours.

With another burst of strength, Frank hauled Jim off the hood of the car and dropped him unceremoniously onto the ground, pinning him to the ground with his knee and wrapping his hand around his throat tightly. "I'm getting really sick of your shit kid." He growled, fingers tightening with each word.

"Funny…"Jim gasped, struggling weakly beneath him. He was too disoriented to do much of anything else. "I could… say the same… for you…"

Frank gave one last painful squeeze and let go, leaving Jim gasping for air on the ground. He rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket, pulling out a thin, flat object that looked a lot like an old fashioned cell phone (ha!). He pressed in a few codes into the screen and held it down for Jim to see. "See this?"

The screen was a mess of smaller screens, each one showing a picture of a different room on the Enterprise. It showed the engine room, the Bridge, the medical bay, and several other stations vital to the ship's survival. Each one was displayed in crystal clear clarity, every detail magnified despite the small size.

"I've already implanted a viral code into your ship. If you think I won't upload it right now and watch the entire thing blow sky high then you're sadly mistaken."

"How…did you get onboard…" Jim gasped, spitting blood from his newly split lip. He'd read somewhere that you can swallow a pint of bloody before getting sick but he wasn't really up for testing that theory.

"I didn't." Frank smirked, holding out a blank card with a thin black strip on one side and a barcode with a number on the other. "You did. All I had to do was wait for everyone to leave and then feed the virus into each system on your ship. You know, you're onboard security systems are very easy to bypass." He smirked again and his eyes darkened. "As far as anyone else knows, _you_ hijacked your own ship and created a doomsday virus for the Enterprise from the Academy. Everything I did was with your ID, Jim. Everything that happens will trace back to you."

Jim felt a cold weight settling his chest and it was suddenly much harder to breathe.

Frank smiled darkly and sat back. "Your ship leaves for its next mission tomorrow morning at 8am." He glanced at his watch and then back at the younger man. "I'd say you have about seven hours before I make the Enterprise a fireworks display."

Jim winced again and growled deep in his throat. There was a chance Frank was bluffing and nothing had been done to the ship but he wasn't willing to test it. Especially not since he'd managed to get video feed from the ship. "Fine…Just leave them out of this, alright?"

Frank smiled and patted the side of Jim's cheek roughly. "Good boy. Meet me at the repair yard in the morning and I'll keep the virus dormant. But if you screw me over again…" He faded off, glaring down at Jim. "Well, be sure to kiss that pretty little girl goodbye for good." He winked and stood, leaving Jim laying bleeding and dazed on the sidewalk. The countdown was on and he had less time than he thought.

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**Woot!! Okay, so just to clarify, there is no romance between Jim and Uhura, the kiss was just for friendship :) I fully support friendship fics between them but can't bring myself to do romance =P Hope you liked it!!**


	11. Search Party

**Wow, this chapter was short O.o It's mostly filler though so I guess it makes up for it =D Hope you like it!!**

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McCoy had muttered just about every curse he could think of in the time span of about five minutes, even going as far as to create a few new ones in the process. He was pissed off, irritated, and worst of all worried. Since finding out about Jim's step father he'd been more anxious than ever to find the younger man. After leaving Pike's office, Spock had informed the rest of the crew of the danger their captain was in and had organized a search party. Nearly every crew member from the Enterprise had shown up, desperate to help. Spock ordered most of them to stay on Academy grounds, constantly on the lookout in case Jim happened to re-appear. He'd divided the remaining members into two groups and sent them in opposite directions of the Academy to look through the local bars, night clubs, and anywhere else Jim could be.

McCoy had been paired off with Chekov and Scotty and the blurred language barrier was doing little to help his mood. They'd already searched nearly every room on at the campus including the computer room Jim was last seen in only to come up with nothing. For the first time since he'd joined Starfleet, Leonard McCoy had no idea what to do; he didn't even know where to start and that's what frustrated him the most.

"Maybe he went beck to his room?" Chekov said hopefully, nearly jogging to keep up with the doctor's long strides.

"I doubt it kid." McCoy muttered, stalking down the darkened street. He glanced around the empty buildings lining the street, watching as they branched out into smaller neighborhoods behind the main street. They had been searching continuously for the past seven hours and with nothing more than Jim's last known location it was starting to become almost useless.

"Why didn' he say anythin' to any of us?" Scotty asked from behind him, peering into a dark ally and then jogging to catch up to the others. "We coulda helped him…"

McCoy didn't say anything right away and just kept walking. The truth was he wasn't sure either. Surely Jim would have said something if the situation was that bad and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he would keep quiet about it. Jim had gone off about things much less serious than something like this before so it seemed strange that he wouldn't mention it. _That Frank guy must be blackmailing him in someway…something is going on here…_McCoy pushed the thoughts out of his head and stopped at the end of the street, throwing up his arms in frustration. "Ugh! This is pointless!! We're being lead on a wild goose chase!" He exclaimed angrily, running a hand through his dark hair.

"I doubt the captain would come this way." Chekov said after a second, taking in the empty streets around them.

"No shit, kid! You think?!" McCoy snapped, sighing heavily as soon as he did. "God…I'm sorry Chekov…I didn't mean to take it out on you."

The Russian boy shrugged one shoulder and smiled faintly. "It's okay…"

"Look, we're all worried about Jim." Scotty said, stepping forward and placing a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "He'll be alright. We'll find 'im." The conviction in his voice almost made the older man believe him but not quite.

Something buzzed against his hip and he grabbed the communicator quickly, holding it up to his ear. "Yeah…but he's not there anymore…?" A long, frustrated sigh. "Alright…we'll be there in a minute." He dropped the communicator back into his pocket and looked back at Scotty and Chekov. "We need to head back to the Academy."

**OOOOO**

The realization that Jim still hadn't been found was almost more than McCoy could take. He re-made his vow to throttle the younger man the minute he saw him. Their small party reached the entrance to the Academy just after 1:30, the campus quite and dark this time of night. Another group of people were waiting outside for them, this one nearly as small as their own. Spock looked up as they approached, Uhura standing by his side along with Sulu and two other crew members.

"You saw him?" The doctor asked as he approached, his eyes leveled on Uhura.

The young woman looked troubled, her dark eyes shining in the dim light. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "Yes, I saw him. He was at a bar about five blocks away."

"And you didn't drag him back here because…?!" McCoy demanded, anger and anxiety adding a sharp edge to his voice.

"Lt. Uhura contacted me as soon as she located our captain; it was the best thing she could have done." Spock said, stepping in for Uhura's defense.

The lieutenant nodded to him in thanks but it didn't seem to help at all. She still looked torn and troubled as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. "I'm sorry…I should have tried harder to convince him to come back but…" She stopped, looking down for a second. She could still picture the bruises and cuts that seemed to cover him from head to toe, the defeated look in his eyes, the vow that he was going to protect his crew no matter what the cost.

McCoy let out a breath and shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I know what you did was right…" He wanted to be mad, to lash out at any and everyone but he knew it wouldn't help. "Did he look okay? Was he hurt?"

When Uhura didn't answer right away, McCoy felt his stomach drop. "He…we need to find him again." There was a sense of urgency in the young woman's voice that the doctor didn't like. "He didn't say where he was going but…we need to find him." A silent agreement passed through the remaining members of the party, each one determined to find the missing young man.

Spock took a small step forward, looking at each crew member directly. "I want all of you to continue searching." He looked between Uhura and McCoy before adding the last part. "We will find him."

"What should we do about the mission in the morning?" Sulu asked, glancing back toward the Academy. "They'll want an explanation."

"Leave that to me." Spock assured him in a calm, level voice that belied any trace of emotion. "A mission cannot be undertaken without a Captain to lead it. And seeing as how ours has currently gone astray, I don't think we'll be able to make the morning deadline." He saw the relieved, grateful smiles of his fellow crew members and felt a tiny smile creep to the corner of his mouth, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go explain our situation to Admiral Pike."

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**Woohoo!! Final showdown with Frank coming in the next two chapters!! :D**


	12. Losing End

**Woot!! Final showdown!! Hope you're all excited!! :D I chose to give Frank a real gun instead of a phaser or anything like that just because I think he's one of the people who likes to do things the old fashioned way. Oh, and I relaly hope the Reverse Technology thing makes sense O.o If you have any questions or it sounds confusing just feel free to message me :D Hope you all like it!!**

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The morning sky had a strange rusty tint to it, the rising sun casting the dawn in a mix of red and orange. The wind was cool and kicked up a few layers of dust that had settled on the street in the middle of the night. Jim kept his back against the wall, fighting the urge to slide down and sit on the ground; he knew if he sat down he wouldn't get back up. The lack of sleep and repetitive blows to the head had made him dizzy and uncoordinated and balance was becoming less of an option with each passing minute. His head throbbed dully, the blood pulsing in his ears like a swishing roar. He was stiff and sore all over, his joints protesting each movement but complaining from the standing as well. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, it flat out hurt to do much of anything but he needed to be strong, at least for a little while longer.

He'd received a message sometime during the night giving him the location and time he was supposed to meet Frank. The message had lead him to a junk yard about a block away from the Academy; it was a place many of the engineering and mechanical students practiced during the year but today it was closed. It would be empty and private, the perfect place for a meeting.

The black backpack felt heavier in his hand than it should have been and Jim constantly adjusted his grip on the strap. It only needed to look convincing, just long enough for him to go through with his plan.

The heavy iron gate clanged to life and began to slide to one side, opening just enough for him to slip through before it closed again. It was still quiet, the murky morning light casting long shadows across the ground. Piles of dissected engine parts and various other components used in the Starfleet ships were laid out in a twisting, labyrinthine pattern. It was designed so the students could look at individual parts without having to go from one side of the yard to the other but today it just seemed like a trap waiting to be sprung.

There was a shuffle of footsteps from behind one of the larger sections of engine and Frank appeared, his dark eyes glinting in the dullness of the morning. "Glad you could make it." He smirked at Jim's haggard appearance. "You look like hell."

"Funny…" Jim grumbled, taking a few slow steps forward. Each step felt like being stabbed in the leg but he kept walking, ignoring the pain. Just a bit farther…his mid kept telling him, urging him forward. He tossed the backpack toward Frank's feet and stopped, glaring at him hatefully. "Here's your money, as promised. Happy now?"

"Elated." Frank gave him a dark smile and pulled something out of his pocket, leveling it at Jim. It was a handgun, the barrel catching the light dangerously. It figured that Frank would stick with an old-fashioned gun instead of a something newer. He valued to classic models of things; cars, guns, murders…

"What's with the gun?" Jim asked, trying to keep his voice level and unafraid. He knew the answer but he needed to stall long enough to get closer to the older man.

Frank smiled faintly and shrugged. "You're a loose end Jim. And you know what they say about loose ends." Keeping the gun leveled at Jim, he stooped to pick up the backpack, hefting it into one hand. He unzipped the top and reached inside, pulling out a stack of plain, white paper. Fury flashed in his eyes once he realized the trick and glared back at the younger man. "What the hell-?!"

He never had a chance to finish as Jim threw himself at him, knocking them both to the ground and sending the gun clattering across the pavement. Jim used every ounce of remaining strength he had to pin Frank to the ground and pull something from the waistband of his pants. With lightening fast speed, he looped the band tightly around Frank's wrist and latched it, locking it into place.

A powerful kick hit him in the chest and he tumbled backward, landing hard on the ground.

"What the hell did you do?!" Frank demanded, ripping at the wrist band with no luck.

"I changed the information on the band…" Jim gasped, pulling himself to his feet with a shuddering groan. "You never knew this…but Reverse Technologies is one of my best subjects…" He pulled a thin, handheld monitor not bigger than a glasses case from his pocket and pushed in a few buttons. "You may no longer be Prisoner 6001829 anymore…but there was an opening for Prisoner 6001832..." Jim gasped again, tasting blood in the back of his mouth. "Welcome back to the Prison's computer system Frank…you'll be eligible for parole in about 75 years…"

Frank's eyes flashed murderously and he made a lunge for the gun. Jim saw the movement and managed to dodge to first bullet fired at him, ducking behind a large chunk of an engine. He'd activated the number, sending an alert back into the main system used by the Prison. Once the system registered that an inmate had "escaped" and was no longer in the designated building he'd been assigned, the entire police force would be notified. Jim had been careful with his plan and everything seemed to be working out for the moment, he just needed to keep the gate locked until the police got here. However long that would be…

Another bullet ricocheted through the metal next to him and he dodged away again. Okay, new plan…keep Frank away from the gate and any other computer system until the police got here. If he managed to get near a computer, he could probably do whatever he was planning to do to the Enterprise to begin with. _No…I won't let that happen…not after all this…_Jim thought, dodging behind another heavy piece of machinery. He could see the gate, he just needed to make sure it didn't move.

There was a loud shot behind him and Jim felt a sudden, searing pain in his side. He stumbled, hand instinctively going to his abdomen where the pain originated. Blood was spreading across his shirt fast, much faster than it should have. He stumbled again, falling to one knee behind the piece of machinery. He gasped, looking down to see blood gushing down the front of his shirt and falling to a crimson puddle on the ground. He kept his hand pressed over the wound, breathing harshly and squeezing his eyes shut. _This is bad…this is bad…shit…_

"You're not going to win this time, Jim…" Frank growled from somewhere behind one of the engine pieces, following the large spatters of blood. "You're going to die…and I'm going to make sure of it this time." He swung around the corner of the engine and prepare to fire again when something heavy and metal crashed into his head. The older man was dazed and lost his balance just long enough for Jim to run to another section of the yard. It wouldn't last forever, he knew, and he would probably bleed to death before the police ever arrived but he had to try.

"Son of a bitch…" Frank grumbled, regaining his balance and grabbing the gun again. He had two bullets left, more than enough to finish the job. "Come on Jim…" He called, following the sporadic blood trail. "Come out, come out wherever you are…"

Jim pressed his back against the smooth surface of metallic panel and took a shaky breath. He was running out of energy and places to hide rapidly. He vaguely registered the sound of voice from somewhere off in the yard but they seemed much farther away than he could place. He hoped the police had arrived sooner than expected but he knew it probably wasn't the case. His knees buckled and he fell, landing heavily on the dusty ground. It was getting harder to breathe and Jim was pretty sure he was going to get stuck on the losing end of the game regardless of what happened_._

**I'm so sorry for the terrible cliffhanger!! I'm moving to a new apartment this week so I wanted to update before everything gets really hectic O.o I promise I'll update as soon as I can!! :D**

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	13. Junkyard Showdown

**Hello all!! So sorry about the long wait for the update but yay!! Here it is!! To be honest I wasn't sure who I wanted to find Jim first but I finally settled on Uhura because it seemed like a way for her to redeem herself from the night before. That and there totally needs to be more friendship stories between them :P There's also a liberal dose of humor in here to kind of break up the severity of the chapter (ie. "you owe me a new jacket", you'll see when you get there ;p) Hope you all like it!! :D**

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A gunshot is always a pretty good indicator of something going horribly wrong. The remaining crew members had just completed their second sweep of the area surrounding the Academy and were about to give it up when the shattering noise split through the still air. They had broken off into pairs, each splitting off into different directions, and Uhura was the first to hear the shot. Her dark eyes widened as they made contact with Chekov's startled face. Before either said a word, they were both running in the direction of the shot, darting through the empty courtyards of the Academy.

Another shot ripped through the air and Uhura turned sharply, narrowing it down to the engineering junkyard across from the campus. All feelings of fatigue had dissolved instantly replaced by a cold, sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't be sure, there was no way she could be sure, but she knew it was Jim. She pushed herself to run faster. She could vaguely hear Chekov contacting the others, telling them their location, as she darted across the street and came face to face with the barred gate of the junkyard. She grabbed the bars, pulling as hard as she could and cursing when they refused to move. "Damn…!" She growled, rounding to Chekov. "Can you open this?!"

The boy nodded, eager to help out in anyway and began rapidly typing in a series of codes and passwords. A few seconds later the gate slowly began to creek open, sliding along its hinges in a heavy, grinding way.

Uhura slipped through the gate once it was open enough for her to get through and looked back at Chekov. "Stay here and wait for the others. I'm going to go find Kirk."

"But what about-?!" Another gun shot cracked through the air, closer this time and Chekov cringed.

"Chekov. Stay. Here." She said firmly, turning away before he could protest further. She felt like she was talking to a puppy but she knew that if he followed her into the junkyard it would be much more dangerous. She could say hidden long enough to find Jim but she didn't want to worry about something happening to Chekov either. _The others will be here soon_ she told herself, running quietly and ducking behind a large chunk of machinery. She remained still for a few minutes, listening closely to everything around her. She could hear someone talking a little further back into the yard, a voice she didn't recognize, but what she did hear chilled her to the bone.

"Come on Jim…come out, come out wherever you are…" The voice chided maliciously and before she could stop it she found herself yelling.

"Its over!" She called, casting her voice off the different angles of metal so it sounded much further away than she was. She ducked behind another large, cylindrical piece of an engine. "We know where you are!"

The yard became quiet, the voice stopping abruptly. She could see the shimmering image of man in the metal around her and carefully slipped away, putting herself behind him and disappearing again. More voices echoed from the gate up ahead and she knew that the others had arrived. Damn good thing too, she was running out of places to go. Without waiting to see where the man had gone, she took off toward the back of the yard once more.

Her breath caught in her throat as she noticed the large splatters of blood painting the ground along the way. The air smelled heavy with dust and blood and Uhura felt her heart drop to her stomach. There were streaks on the metal, freckles of crimson against a shiny metallic panel resting up against another piece of machinery. She could just barely make out the outline of a person hidden in the shadowed crevice between the two pieces of metal and she fell to her knees instantly. "Oh my God…Kirk…"

Jim was slumped against the panel, his eyes screwed shut in pain. He blinked when he heard his name, this time not in the sadistic, mocking tone Frank used. "Uhura…?" He asked, his voice coming out as a breathy whisper.

"Jesus Christ Jim…" She muttered, cupping his face and looking him over carefully. "What were you thinking?! Jesus…" She looked down at the alarming amount of blood that covered the younger man, her voice dying her throat. "Oh my God…"

" 'S…not that…bad…" Jim trying to smile but it looked more like a grimace. He took a shallow breath, the motion harsh and painful in his chest. He was trembling but he couldn't feel it; hell, he couldn't feel much of anything anymore. "You…shouldn't…" He paused to take another agonizing breath, vaguely wondering when talking had become harder than running a 15k marathon. "…Be here…dangerous…"

"Shut up…" Uhura snapped, unable to stop the tears from stinging the backs of her eyes. She wanted nothing more than to smack him in the back of the head and call him and idiot but she knew it wouldn't help anything. Instead, she reached out and placed both hands over the bleeding wound in Jim's side, pressing down hard. The younger man made a soft sound in the back of his throat, something close to a whimper and Uhura felt the tears fall before she could stop them. "I'm so sorry…God, I'm so so sorry…" She was apologizing for not doing more the night before, for not trying to stop Kirk from walking out of the bar, for basically treating him with little more than disdain for the past three and a half years. Her Captain was dying right in front of her and there was very little she could do to stop that.

" Not…your fault…" Came the gasped whisper. Jim was gritting his teeth, desperately fighting off the darkening edges that stained his vision. The shadows seemed darker, the ground falling beneath him and he didn't have anything left to hang on to.

"Kirk…?" The younger man's eyes were beginning to close and Uhura felt her stomach flip sharply. "No…no sleeping! Dammit, wake the hell up!" She shook him roughly, knowing it was probably doing more harm than good, but she didn't care. "Jim, wake up." She managed to level her voice out and she cupped his face in her hands. "Jim, listen to me…I need you to stay awake, alright? Can you hear me? Dammit! Open your eyes, Kirk…!"

Glassy blue eyes slowly slid open, focusing on her face. Jim blinked, wincing and tasting blood in the back of his mouth. "So…loud…"

Uhura nearly laughed in relief but the click of a gun being cocked made her freeze.

"Well, well, well…isn't this sweet?" A dark, sinister voice drawled from behind them. Uhura looked up only to find an old-fashioned revolver aimed directly at her and Jim. "Ahh…the pretty girl from the bar." The man smirked, a dangerous, black smile that would seem fitting on a cobra. "You know, I was planning on just killing him but I think making him watch you die first would be so much more entertaining."

Jim tried to sit up, tried to say something, but Uhura kept her hands on him and refused to let him move. She glared at the man, wondering where the hell everyone else was, and kept herself between him and the wounded man behind her. "Why?" She asked simply, the word dripping with every ounce of hatred and wrath she could fathom.

The man chuckled. "Why not? You know Jim personally, don't you? You know what a screw up he is."

"He's not-!"

"Ah." The gun leveled on her again and the man's eyes darkened. "Remember who has the gun here, sweetheart." Seeing that his point had gotten across, he smiled again, the same malicious smile he seemed to keep at all times. "Jim Kirk has always been a walking mistake…I'm just here to fix that." The gun leveled again and Uhura braced herself for the shot that never came.

There was a blur of movement and suddenly the man was knocked completely off his feet, tumbling back into the yard away from where they were. She had just enough time to make out Spock and Sulu before all three disappeared into the mechanical maze.

"Uhura!" Another voice called from somewhere up ahead and she recognized it instantly as McCoy.

"Over here!" She cried, noticing to her dismay that Kirk was beginning to lose consciousness again. "Hurry!"

A few seconds later McCoy ran by, missed their all but hidden location, and ran back. He dropped to his knees in the dirt, eyes widening sharply. "Oh my God…Oh God…" No matter how many years of experience he had, McCoy was still not prepared to deal with the blow of seeing his best friend battered, bruised, and just barely clinging to life in the middle of a dusty junkyard. There was far too much blood and not enough Jim beneath the dirty, tattered clothes. "What the hell happened…?!"

"He's been shot." Uhura said, keeping her hands over the wound. "Among other things."

McCoy nodded absently and went into instant CMO mode. He silently cursed the fact that he'd left all of his equipment on the ship and resolved to do things the old-fashioned way. He touched Jim's throat gently, counting softly. The younger man's pulse was far too slow, the rhthym thready and weak. Thank you blood loss. He took in the external injuries quickly, knowing there was probably a mess of internal ones as well, and moved up, patting Jim on the face a bit more roughly than was probably necessary. "Hey, kid. Sleep time's over. Wake up!"

The younger man blinked, his pupils uneven, and winced. Great, a definite concussion. "Ngh…you too…?"

"You're dame right me too." McCoy snapped but he couldn't keep his voice from shaking. "Dammit Jim, what the hell were you thinking?!"

Another wince followed but a raspy, gurgled breath. "Wasn't…"

"Obviously." The older man grumbled irritably, shrugging out of his jacket and wadding it into a ball. He covered the bullet wound carefully, placing Uhura's hands back over the shirt once it was settled. "The second you get better, I'm going to beat you to death…" He mumbled, taking in the rest of the younger man's broken form. Blood streaked nearly every inch that wasn't covered by clothing and the patchwork of bruises was only partially visible in the shadows. "Jesus kid…"

There was a rush of footsteps and Scotty appeared above them, panting and out of breath. "We called for a medical team and the police are on the way-" He looked like he was about to say more but he stopped, his voice faltering when he saw Jim. "Blood Hell…what did he do to 'im…?!"

McCoy shook his head slowly and looked up to the shaken man. "He'll be fine…" He said, trying to convince himself more than anything. "Just go back and wait with Chekov. Let the police and medical team know where to find us, whoever gets here first."

Scotty hesitated for a split second before he nodded and took off back toward the front of the yard. McCoy let out a breath, hating the control of frantic bystanders more than anything.

"McCoy…" Uhura's shaky voice brought him out of his reverie. "He's not breathing…"

"What?!" Okay, so maybe this was a little worse than frantic bystanders. Turning back to Jim, he tilted the younger man's head back and listened carefully, pressing his fingers to the side of his throat. Not breathing, no pulse…shit. "Shit…" Reacting instantly, the older man positioned his hands over Jim's heart and began chest compressions, counting softly to himself. "I need you to breathe for him…" He said in between each compression, catching Uhura's eye from the corner of his.

The young woman nodded, waiting for the cycle to finish before doing her part. She delivered two full breaths, watching carefully for the full rise and fall of Jim's chest. She was sure if he knew about this he's make some smartass comment about her kissing him. The thought brought the sting of tears all over again.

McCoy started a second set of compressions, muttering desperately to himself after each one. "Come on, kid…" He mumbled, pressing down hard and fast. "You can beat this…Come on Jim…Don't quit on me now…"

Uhura leaned over again, delivering two more breaths and fighting to keep the tears from falling.

Blood had now saturated the corners of the jacket, forming a small puddle on the ground. "Dammit Jim…breathe…" McCoy snapped, repositioning his hands and beginning again. "If you die I'm going to kill you…I'll find a way…you owe me a new jacket…" There was a shudder beneath his hands and Jim let out a weak, ragged cough, curling onto one side and wincing. "Atta boy…" McCoy breathed in relief, pulling Jim's head into his lap and stabilizing his neck. "Just breathe kid…there you go…"

Uhura sat back on her knees, smiling through her tears. That was far too close for either of them.

Someone appeared beside her and Spock's dark eyes leveled on the unconscious young man cradled in the doctor's lap. "Is he-?"

"He's in really bad shape." McCoy answered bitterly, looking down at Jim and then back up the First Officer. "Where's-?"

Spock didn't answer but his eyes held a sharp, dangerous edge they'd rarely ever seen.

"Did you-?" Uhura couldn't bring herself to finish the question.

"No, he has been incapacitated." The Vulcan reassured her though his eyes never left the limp form of the Captain.

"Incapacitated?!" McCoy exclaimed in disbelief. "You should have-"

"Spock broke both of his legs." Sulu cut in, joining the ragtag group that had formed around Jim.

"In multiple places." Spock added.

"Like, bones-sticking-out-in-all-kinds-of-funny-angles broke his legs. I don't think he'll be going anywhere anytime soon…"

"Yeah, well he can stay there." McCoy spat, expression darkening when he thought of what that man had put Jim through.

"Where is the medical team?" The Vulcan asked calmly but there was a very faint edge of anxiety in his voice.

"On their way…they should be here soon." But even as he said it McCoy wished they would hurry. "We need to wait for them though…it's not safe to move-" He never got a chance to finish as Spock took two steps forward, scooped the unconscious Captain into his arms and began walking toward the front of the yard. "…him."

"Desperate times, Doctor." Spock said over his shoulder, quickening his pace slightly when he felt the blood begin to seep through his shirt.

Sulu helped Uhura off the ground and the remaining three hurried after the First Officer. Their Captain needed help fast and waiting wasn't going to fix anything. The wail of a police siren echoed in the distance and they were more than happy to leave Frank broken and helpless in the middle of the junkyard.

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**So?? Was is okay?? Did Frank get what he deserved?? I wanted to kill him, I really did but I figured going back to prison, especially one he could never escape from (say, on another planet with a very acidic atmospher and running rampant with ravenous, blood-thirsty badgers with hand genades) was just as good :D Hope you all liked it!! There's still more to come!!**


	14. Consciousness is Overrated

**Aghh!!! I've been trying to upload this thing for three days!! but between the virus my computer contracted and 's spiffy "we're going to do upgrades for the next 48 hours" thing its been Hell in a handbasket!! -.-; Oh well, here it is :D Fun game: see if you can find out who's who :P Hope you like it!!**

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A dull, persistent throb that radiated through his skull was the first thing that brought Jim to a state of semi-consciousness. Well, "consciousness" is a relative term. Everything was still dark and oppressive, the way a blackened room is when you're all alone. You could look all you wanted but in the darkness you see nothing. It had been this way for a while now; little sparks of coherence filtering through his mind and making him just aware enough of his surroundings to realize he was awake before disappearing as quickly as it had come.

He was vaguely aware of sensations, cold wires and tubes clinging to his skin like they had become a part of him. His body ached even though he immobile, a deep, bone-clinging ache that made him shudder and want to move. Something soft was beneath him, plastic and foam melded together to form something close to being comfortable. Too bad in his current state it felt like laying on lava rock. The gashes along his back were still raw and sore, the pain dulled by his long-standing denial of the conscious world. Fabric burned, cloth rubbed raw, it was impossible to bear it.

He wanted to move, to at least switch positions so he wasn't laying flat on the inflamed wounds, but he came to sudden realization that his body wouldn't move. Not so much wouldn't, per se, but more like his body refused to acknowledge the signals his brain was sending down. He could twitch his finger with little effort but everything else felt like it was weighted down with lead. And it hurt like hell, not to mention is was damn irritating.

Another sensation emerged, the wonderful sense of hearing. There were voices above him, reigning down from the ceiling like the voice of God. He tried to open his eyes, look at the faces of the ones talking, but his eyes refused to open as well. Well fine, seeing is overrated anyway. He listened, the edges of his reality blurring with the comforting embrace of darkness that lingering just next it. There was a soft beeping noise as well, almost like the gentle tick of clock but slightly louder. Funny, it seemed to be competing with the rhythm of the throbbing in his head.

The voices were speaking again, three of them in the oblivion above him. One had a heavy accent, speaking quickly in a way that was hard to understand. Too much concentration made the headache worse. Another voice chimed in, this one also heavy with accent but sounding much younger. The name was nearly on the tip of Jim's tongue, teetering just out of reach. The third voice spoke clearly, evenly in the midst of the other two. It was still hard to understand; the beeping of the monitor was beginning to get irritating.

The first voice spoke again, recommending something to one of the other phantom beings. The second voice, heavily accented as the first, said something close to "checkmate." There was a brief sound like a chuckle and then a soft curse from the last unidentified speaker.

The hell? Was he dead?! Was this Heaven and everyone played Checkers all day?! Good God, if that was the case he never wanted to die. How boring could and eternity of Checkers be?!

There was a sudden tightening in his chest, a sharp, searing pain as he breathed in. The monitor began to react with him, the persistent beeping noise increasing. The voices stopped immediately, a panicked silence filling the void. A siren wailed, screeching to be heard in a room full of silence. Suddenly hands were all over him, touching, pulling, tugging at the wires that had coiled themselves into his skin. One eye was forced open, a bright light shining directly over him. There was a flash of blue, the hiss of a voice cursing, and the sudden weightlessness that was left once the pain in his chest faded away.

A sharp stab of a needle in his arm (he hated needles) and another curse. Something about blood pressure above him and something plastic and flexible was placed over his mouth and nose. He was vaguely aware of the bitter coppery taste in the back of his mouth, the shudder of his own chest as his coughed to remove it. Something warm spattered against the plastic, dripping down and trickling down the creases made in his skin.

Another siren wailed and a sudden jolt of electricity tingled through his skin. It hurt, like licking a car battery, but he couldn't react enough to move away. The shrill, squeal of electrical frequency as it gained strength. Another jolt and the tingling sensation felt duller this time. He wanted to move, to cry out, anything but there was nothing he could do. He figured an eternity of Checkers was his fate after all as the last remaining strand of consciousness was severed and he tumbled back into nothingness.

It was much harder to grasp onto that severed cord this time around. It danced just out of range, tempting him and mocking his inability to catch it. He felt like he was stuck in a pool of tar, sinking more than swimming. The darkness was heavy, driving him crazy. And that beeping wasn't helping either. He wanted unplug it, whatever it was, or smash it with something large and blunt. Once he could move again that is. The weighted feeling in his limbs had returned, pinning him to the softness beneath. Struggle all you like, you're not going anywhere. He was sure if he body could talk that's what it would be saying right about now.

**OOOOO**

His hand was propped in something, probably the only part of his body he could actually feel at the time. It was soft and warm, long, slender extensions wrapping around his limp fingers. Fingers? Had to be. Focus just a bit more and he could fell the smooth skin of a hand holding his. Hah, sight be damned!

The grip was gentle yet tight, the skin far too soft to be male. The owner seemed miles away, as if only their hand remained to provide a small bit of comfort. He wondered who it was.

"...You're so stupid..." A voice scolded from above him and Jim wanted to frown. He'd been called plenty of things in his life but stupid was just an insult. "You're so Goddamn stupid..." The voice scolded again and he was getting more irritated with each passing second. There was no need for rudeness.

Something warm splashed against his hand, slipping between his fingers. Did someone turn on a sprinkler? The owner of the hand, the phantom being above him, let out a soft hitched breath, almost like trying to suppress a cry. It was a tiny sound, unnoticed to the emptiness above him, but he heard it and all the irritation faded.

He hated it when people cried. And for that matter why were they crying to begin with? There was nothing wrong to cry about.

"...Such and idiot..." The owner of the hand scolded once more but the voice was shaky, faltering as the words became vocal.

Aww...don't cry...He wanted to offer some form of reassurance but the fragile hold he had on the real world was slipping away. Before he could say anything, the world faded again and he was alone.

**OOOOO**

"Cocky-ass kid..."

The words echoed down into his subconscious, bringing him back little by little. But now, instead of waiting for the world to adjust around him, he had a list of questions already racing through his mind. Who was talking now? Why couldn't he open his eyes still? When the hell did he become narcoleptic enough to pass out mid-conversation?

"Were you trying to get yourself killed?" The new voice demanded and there was a sharp jab in his wrist, something that felt like another needle (okay, they were really going to have to talk about the needle thing when he got up). "You got all this male bravado that nearly gets you landed in the morgue. Happy now, Jim?" The voice was angry but more than that it was desperate, like talking would keep him from falling into the void again.

"You should have said something..." There was resignation now, a sense of defeat in the air. "Believe it or not you don't have to prove yourself to everyone...you could have asked for help..." More defeat and Jim felt his jaw clench. This was second time he wanted to comfort the unseen presence above him and he couldn't do it. And what was he asking for help for...?

"You gotta pull through this, kid..." The voice said, a whisper more than anything. Pull through what? Was he stuck somewhere? "You're not really going to let that pointy-eared bastard take over this ship are you?"

Who? A face drifted through his memory and he nearly had a name but it vanished.

Something touched his face, brushing hair away from his forehead. The touch was gentle from hands that weren't used to using such restrain. "Come on, kid...you have to wake up..."

Oh, there was nothing more that he wanted to do than wake up but it seemed impossible right now. Especially reality was slowly fading again and he was slipping back into the darkness. Oh well, the dark recesses of his mind had become comfortable, why not stay and visit for a while?

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**So was it okay?? I wanted to do little snippets of Jim's consciousness without revealing the entire thing O.o Oh, and the siren thing at the beginning was him flatlining in case anyone missed it :P Hope you liked it!! :D**


	15. Home

**Hello all!! Sorry it took me so long to upload this chapter!! I got frustrated with it the first time I wrote it and erased the entire thing and refused to touch it for a few days -.-; I'm still not entirely satisfied with the outcome but oh well!! :D Spock seems a little OOC to me in this chapter so I apologize if it throws anyone off!! Hope you enjoy it!! :D**

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Jim winced, opening his eyes slowly. It was a major accomplishment, one he'd been working toward for the better part of an hour (at least he guessed it was an hour; hard to tell time when you can't open your eyes to see a clock). He stared up at the white tiled ceiling above him, frowning in confusion for a second. Where the hell was he? He wanted to move his head but found that the very motion of blinking was exhausting so he figured laying still might be in his best interest for the time being. His mind felt fuzzy and useless, completely fogged over with whatever had happened in the past few...days? Weeks? How long had he even been here? And he still had yet to figure out where "here" was for that matter.

There was a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye but he couldn't move enough to see what it was. Damn joint stiffness. "The alterations in your breathing pattern suggests you have regained consciousness." A monotonous voice pointed out softly and Jim found himself frowning again.

He knew that voice, recognized it in the depths of his sub-conscious, but he couldn't think of a name right off hand. Instead, he shook his head slowly, an obvious mistake thanks to the stiffness in his neck and joints, and let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh. "Its way too early for big words like that..." He muttered, wincing at the roughness of his voice. He felt like he'd been gargling gravel for about a week. He tried to clear his throat, another mistake realized too late, and grit his teeth. There was a light pressure against his shoulder and he looked up to see a glass of water hovering above his head. Well, that was unusual...

A man a few years older than him appeared around the rim of the glass. His expression remained stoic and impassive but there was the briefest flicker of concern in his dark eyes. "Are you alright, Captain?"

Jim nodded slightly, wondering why he wouldn't be, and reached out to accept the glass. His arm felt heavy and weighted like something was tied to his wrist. Thin wires and tubes were taped to his forearm and wrist, threading into the skin and pulsing clear fluid into his body. It was surreal and startling to say the least. "The hell...?" He heard himself mumble, eyebrows knitting together in a confused knot.

A jumble of memories suddenly came flooding back like a tidal wave. Frank reappearing after being in prison for so many years...being blackmailed into resigning and threatening to destroy the ship if he didn't...the gun shot... "Shit!" Jim was suddenly completely upright, immediately regretting the decision. He sucked in a sharp breath, his ribs aching fiercely against him being vertical and his head swimming sickeningly. There was the distinct and uncomfortable pull of a bandaged wound in his side as well, a dull throb accentuating each breath. A firm yet surprisingly gentle hand was pressed against his chest and he was carefully pushed back down into a reclined position.

"Such strenuous movements are not recommended in your current condition, Captain." The man said, eying him carefully. "Re-opening your wounds would be very detrimental to the progress you have already made and I'm certain Doctor McCoy would not be pleased to learn of it either."

Jim allowed himself to relax against what he was pretty sure was a bed. He stared at the dark haired man for a long minute, blue eyes narrowing slightly. He vaguely recalled arguments with the man but couldn't remember why; it seemed oddly pointless now. He struggled for a second, the name almost within reach. "I know you..." He said finally, a nod of assertion following the statement.

"A comforting thought considering you have been unconscious for nearly ninety-seven hours." The man said, the faintest hint of smile settling across his features.

There was only one person Jim could think of that would use that kind of logic in every situation. "Spock." Upon receiving a nod from the man, Jim smiled. Another thought occurred to him then and the smile vanished. "Wait..." He did the math in his head quickly. "Four days?! I've been unconscious for four days?!"

Spock nodded solemnly. "Your survival was..." He paused, thinking of a more delicate word to use. "Unsure." He said finally, watching the younger man carefully. "There were at least two separate occasions in which you were nearly lost."

The cold reality sank in and Jim suddenly felt like he had an anvil sitting on his chest. It had been four days since he'd faced his step-father, four days he'd been stuck in this God-forsaken bed. What if Frank had managed to active the code and destroyed the ship? Was anyone injured? "Where's Frank?" He asked finally, a knot forming in his stomach.

"He has been taken into custody." Spock answered indifferently though there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. The Vulcan turned to face him completely then, dark eyes leveling on his face. "Captain," He began quietly as if it was all he could do not to throw out a hundred different questions at once. "Why did you keep your whereabouts and complications with your step-father a secret? Your injuries..." He paused, regaining control of himself to prevent the anger from appearing in his voice. "This could have been avoided. Why did you feel that this was a burden you must carry yourself?"

Jim was silent for a second, unsure of how to answer. The mental shields he'd built up in his mind for years against the memories of Frank had now all but crumbled completely and he was left with nothing. He wanted to be angry, to tell his First Officer that it was none of his business, but he couldn't. Truth be told, it was Spock's business along with everyone else involved with the Enterprise. Everything he'd done was for them, it had never been for any other reason. The safety of his crew members had been the only thing circulating through his mind for the past few days. "Frank threatened to destroy the Enterprise if I didn't resign. He said he'd uploaded a code sequence that could destroy the ship from the inside out whit all of you inside..." He stopped, glaring at the wall a few feet away. "He'd managed to make a copy of my ID card and was keeping an eye on me from every angle of the Academy. He said that if I told anyone about his plan then he would active the code and destroy anyone and everything that happened to be in the Enterprise at the time..." There was another pause and he turned to face Spock. "That code is still in the ship."

The Vulcan frowned and shook his head. "To my knowledge an unidentified code was found a few days ago and removed with no complications. A complete systems check has been done multiple times since the discovery with no recurring problems."

Cold fury welled in the pit of Jim's stomach and he clenched his fist. "Son of a bitch...he used me..." He knew it was a possibility all along; that Frank had been lying and wielding Jim however he saw fit. He'd used him like a puppet to his every whim; the threat had been fake all along. "Part of me knew it was a bluff..." He said slowly, refusing to meet the Vulcan's gaze. "Part of me knew it was impossible to get past off the ship's security systems and implant something that dangerous on board...but I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk the off chance that it was true..."

Spock remained silent as Jim spoke, not wanting to interrupt the younger man's revelation. Still, it was difficult to watch the realization dawn on him and sit by quietly. "You say your reason behind your actions was to protect the ship and its crew but you never stopped to think of how that would affect the crew on board."

Jim frowned. "What do you mean?"

The Vulcan shrugged one shoulder half-hearted and continued. "As the Captain of a Starfleet ship, I understand the level of responsibility that has been placed upon you but also that, given your crew's loyalty to you, you should never have to approach a problem of this magnitude alone."

Jim sighed and shook his head. "I've been unconscious for four days Spock, the big words aren't filtering through quite right..."

"You aren't alone."

That did sink in and the younger man felt himself stop and look over. "What?"

"As Captain of the Enterprise you see it as your duty to protect your crew and your ship no matter what the cost."

"Yeah...?"

"Well, that can be expressed in both ways. As you protect this crew it is our duty to reflect the same civility." Upon seeing the younger man still staring at him, Spock continued. "You are our Captain, Jim. And as such, it would only be logical for us to protect you and defend you in the same way you have done for us. A troubled past can be a heavy burden to bear, but it is not one you must face alone. Not now, not ever."

For a long time Jim didn't know what to say. Everything that came to mind sounded too jumbled to make any real sense out of. He'd been a fool; he had been so focused on doing things his way without seeing what it was doing to everyone around him. Nearly dying (twice) couldn't have been good for the crew's morale either and God knows Bones probably had a field day with it. But Spock was right; he had to accept the fact that while he wanted nothing more than to keep everyone safe, they wanted the same for him. Ever having any doubts of that had been a huge mistake. "Thank you..." He said finally though the words sounded oddly useless to express his true gratitude.

The Vulcan simply nodded and leaned back in his chair again. He picked up the book that had been folded across his leg and began reading again. It was a clear indication that he wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

Jim smiled faintly to himself and relaxed back against the bed. No matter what happened in the future, they would face it together. That's what crews did. But for now hard to see the future through the fatigue that had once again settled around him. He fell asleep feeling better than he had in months. For the first time, he felt like he was home.

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**So was it okay?? If not just let me know, I'm up for any suggestions!! :D Last chapter coming up next!!**


	16. Epilogue: Together

**Hate...college...-.-x God, I'm so sorry its taken me so long to post this!! My professors are trying their best to pile on as much school work as possible during the week so I haven't had any time to write!! O.o My profuse apologies for the wait!**

**That said, I just wanted to say thank you all so much for taking the time to read my story. I means the absolute world to me and I'm so happy I was able to write something you all enjoyed!! A thousand thanks yous from the very bottom of my heart!!! :D**

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Jim sat down slowly, his stiff muscles protesting weakly. He was still sore, the recovery taking much longer than he originally anticipated. It was the first time he'd been anywhere out of the infirmary in a little over a week and a half and even then it was with Bones hovering over him like a hawk. The tongue-lashing he'd gotten from the older man once he was conscious enough to appreciate it had been brutal. Lots of "dammit Jims" and other strings of curses that seemed to fit unusually comfortably into the doctor's gruff vocabulary. He'd gotten the same explanation about Frank that Spock did and wasn't nearly as calm and stoic as the Vulcan had been; a lot more "dammit Jims" ensued. A lot more threats as well.

The recovery period had been a long, boring process; Jim never was good at sitting still for any long period of time, and, thanks to the multiple broken bones, lacerations, and a nifty little bullet wound in his side, laying still happened to be the only thing he could really do for several days. The rest of the crew had come to visit him while he recovered, offering a combination of admonishment and company at the same time. Uhura came in the first afternoon after he'd woken up and politely threatened to punch him if he ever did anything that stupid again, Captain status be damned. However, despite her threats, she visited a couple times a day and would offer to sit with him if he wanted. Sulu and Chekov wandered through a few times, bringing with them either cards or a chess/checkers board. Kirk could clean them out in poker and most other card games they offered but they were able to beat him pretty severely in chess. By the end of the week though, he'd managed to pick up a few skills in the game and was able to at least stand a fighting chance. Scotty visited a few times as well but it was usually for a very short period of time before he was sent running off to reprimand some unfortunate crew member who happened to do something just slightly off kilter. Even Bones found time to come and sit with him, listening bemusedly as Jim bitched and griped about being stuck in the bed. He'd patched Jim up enough to know that being damn near immobile was the last thing the younger man ever wanted. He absolutely hated it.

And then there was Spock, impassive and emotionless as always. However, despite his stoic expressions and monotonous voice, the Vulcan visited the young Captain daily, sitting by his bedside and offering a silent yet consistent presence. He kept Jim updated on what was going on in the Enterprise and the incoming reports that required the Captain's attention, keeping the younger man occupied enough to not go completely stir crazy. It was a nice change throughout the day and Jim actually found himself enjoying the visits. He wasn't, he reminded Spock, the Captain anymore though so the constant updates were no longer necessary. The Vulcan said nothing, simply continuing on with his reports.

Pike appeared in his room one afternoon, sitting down so silently that Jim jumped when he finally realized he was there. He smiled at the younger man, a kind, fatherly smile Jim had never gotten while growing up. "How are you feeling son?" He asked, keeping his voice low to prevent waking any of the other patients in the surrounding rooms.

"I'm ready to get out of this God-forsaken bed." Jim mumbled, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice as he spoke. It wasn't Pike fault, he was just sick of staying in the same room and not being able to leave the bed.

Pike smiled and shook his head. "Still a fighter." He said quietly, more to himself than anyone. He sobered and looked back at Jim. "You know they've transported your step-father off the planet, right? You won't have to worry about him getting out again for a very long time."

Jim nodded, unable to meet the older man's eyes. "Yeah, but for what? He accomplished what he set out to do: I resigned and he got the satisfaction of being a bastard all over again."

Pike was silent for a minute. "Jim, do you know why I pushed you so hard to join Starfleet? It wasn't because of your father, though that did play a crucial role. It was because I saw a fearlessness in you that most people your age don't possess, its something that usually takes years to develop and its never a very pretty journey." Pike paused, watching the younger man's face. "You have the makings of a great Captain in you James Kirk, its something you were born to do. Now I know you have your reasons for what you did but just know that, even with your skill, there are some things you cannot accomplish alone. The dynamics between you and your crew members are what makes you a great Captain, not the Enterprise of the Federation or anything else. They need you, Jim, just as you need them."

"Yeah, but that doesn't really help now." Jim mumbled bitterly. "I resigned remember?"

Pike smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I remember. Which is why I never authorized it."

"Wait…what?"

"I never authorized your resignation, Jim." The older man continued, waiting for him to catch on. "You turned in your resignation, yes, but it needs to have an official signature before its enacted. I wasn't about to let you squander everything you worked for for an undisclosed reason. You're still the Captain, Jim. You always have been."

For a long minute, Jim couldn't say anything; for the first time in his life he was completely speechless. Finally, the words seemed to find him again and he opened his mouth. "Pike I-"

Pike cut him off with a wave of his hand. "You don't have to say anything, Jim. I'm going to let your actions speak for you." He smiled and stood up slowly. "The Enterprise is in your hands Captain Kirk, time to prove that you were the right choice."

The day after Pike's visit, Jim was up and ready to get back to his ship. There were no missions scheduled but he was sick of being stuck in the Academy's infirmary and needed the familiar feeling of the Enterprise's walls around him. With Bones' help and his crew by his side, the made their way to the shuttle that would take them up to their ship.

**OOOOO**

Sitting back down in the Captain's chair (which he was still ridiculously proud of) was like being welcomed home and the faces of all of his crew members around him was more than anything he could have ever hoped for. This was what it was like to have a family, a real family. A few years ago he hadn't known any of the men and women standing around him and now he couldn't imagine life without them. He smiled, more content to be here with his crew than anywhere else in the universe.

Sulu and Chekov walked over to their station, Uhura following their actions and moving to hers. Scotty disappeared around the corner to sit in his position and Bones took a step back to survey the Bridge. Spock stood stoically beside him, hands folded lightly behind his back.

"Where to, Captain?" Sulu asked, turning around in his chair to face Jim.

"Wherever she'll take us." Jim smiled, looking out into the yawning openness of space. He didn't care where they were goin, as long as he was here with them. The engines rumbled to life and the course was set and Jim couldn't be happier.

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**So there it is :D Once again, thank you all for joining me through this journey; though some chapters took longer than others (angry fist shake at Blinn professors XP) You guys are the best!**


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